One Step Closer - Turns in Fate
by MissjudyK
Summary: Ben, Hoss, and Joe head to Boston after hearing that Adam has experienced a horrendous loss. He has lost the Wadsworth family he loved in Boston, and may lose the company he's been running as well, once the will is read. The tragedy does gives Ben a chance to get to know his grandchildren, but he worries that this may be one loss too many for his son.
1. Chapter 1

**This is part of the One Step Closer series. No need to read the previous stories to enjoy this. This is a post canon series, where Adam has returned to Boston to marry the woman he loved when he was there for school. They've been married for 8 years and have 2 children. Adam has taken over the engineering firm owned by the family that he has become part of through his college roommate. In this story, the entire family has perished, leaving Adam in deep grief and facing the loss of the people he loved and the company he's been running if the will names an heir who doesn't want Adam Cartwright to stay in charge. Only the Cartwrights can support the oldest son through this uncertain time.**

 **Turns in Fate**

 **Part One**

 **One – Saturday, October 5, 1872**

Ben was heading down the steps to join Hoss and Joe for breakfast when a sharp knock on the front door made him detour. He smiled as he looked outside and saw Ricky Epson, the son of the Western Union operator in Virginia City. He had a cloth bag slung across his chest with what appeared to be a rolled-up newspaper inside. "What brings you out here so early?" he inquired as he ushered the youngster into the house. It was only 7 AM, and the distance from town would have added a good 45-minute ride when made on the small horse that was tied to the hitching rail in the yard.

"Pa got a telegram for yer family around five this mornin', Mr. Cartwright. He weren't sure if you was comin' to town today, so he said I should hurry out here, cuz it's really important."

"Thank you for getting such an early start." Ben's serious tones matched the boy's, but he laughed as the Ricky's's eyes drifted past him toward the table where Hoss and Little Joe were eating. "Did you have breakfast before you set out?"

"Just a piece of bread with Ma's raspberry jelly." He sniffed the air. "That bacon sure smells good."

Hoss motioned him toward the table. "C'mon over, Ricky, there's plenty here. Pa can read what you brought and he might need to send something back anyway, so you might as well get a little sustenance for the trip home."

Ricky stepped around Ben and was headed for the table when Ben took his arm. "Aren't you forgetting something?" He laughed when the boy returned a clueless stare. "The telegram, son. You still have it."

Ben took the bag containing the newspaper to his desk and opened an envelope with the words," Read First," printed on it. It was a note from Ricky's father, noting that the telegram had come in from Boston at the crack of dawn. The instructions accompanying the wire had asked that he try to find a copy of the San Francisco Chronicle containing the story that would elaborate on the short message. He'd gone to the general store that received the daily papers, and luckily the stage had come through an hour earlier with what he'd needed.

Ben's curiosity was on high alert as he tried to undo the string tied around the newspaper. The telegram was from Boston, so it was undoubtedly from Adam. Several possibilities came to mind as he worked at the knot. Had his son won another award or secured a huge contract? Or maybe he was coming back to San Francisco to perform with his choral and guitar group again. Any of these might warrant an article in the Chronicle. His efforts only manage to get the knot tighter, and he finally rolled it off instead.

He could hear his sons joking and laughing with Ricky as he scanned the headline that made his head swim. _Prominent San Francisco Engineer, Frank Wadsworth Jr, Perished At Sea Along With Entire Family._ His heart pounded as he scanned the article noting that the Wadsworth family had been sailing with friends in the English Channel off the coast of Guernsey on September 25, when the sloop, _Assomption_ _*,_ went down. The cause of the wreck wasn't known, but the bodies of Franklin Wadsworth Sr., his wife, Marion Wadsworth, and their grown children, Amelia Wadsworth-Brighton, her husband, Nathan, and Frank Wadsworth Jr, were recovered from the wreckage. The piece noted that there were no other surviving members of the family. Also noted was that Frank Jr. had operated an arm of the family engineering business in San Francisco for several years, while Adam Cartwright, of the Virginia City-Ponderosa Cartwrights, had been made managing director of the Boston empire of Wadsworth Engineering four years ago when Frank Sr. had moved to London.

Bens' mind raced over what he knew about the Wadsworths. Frank Sr. had been so impressed by Adam when he'd first come to Boston for school that he'd used his influence to put his own son Frankie in the same dormitory room and classes at Harvard with the youngster from the West. Adam had helped Frankie settle into study habits and tutored him when he'd fallen behind, and they'd become close as brothers. In turn, Frankie had brought Adam out to the Wadsworth home where he'd quickly found a place in Frank and Marian's hearts, and was soon considered "one of the family".

Ben had witnessed the affection between Adam and Frank Sr. when he'd visited Boston around the time Adam had married. It had bothered him at first, but he'd come to realize that Adam had simply added more members to his family, not made substitutions.

He'd never met the sister noted in the article, and he didn't think Adam knew her well either. Since there were no youngsters mentioned as surviving the couple, he assumed that she and her husband had remained childless.

Ben's thoughts turned next to Frankie. The young man had chosen to go to San Francisco after he'd graduated instead of working at the family firm in Boston. Ben had gotten to know him when they'd gotten together during Cartwright trips to the Frisco area, and when Frankie had visited the ranch. The young man had seemed gregarious and full of fun. Yet, there were times when Ben would catch a glimpse of Frankie in a private moment where he seemed lost in a private sadness.

This theory had been confirmed by Adam more than once. His son had spent several winters working for Frankie's company in an attempt to keep his own engineering skills sharp, and while he hadn't shared any confidences, he had mentioned to his father that Frankie had grown weary of the business. Even Frank had told Ben during his visits that he felt his own son had trouble walking in his father's footsteps. He thought perhaps the boy was too much like him to want to work with him, but he worried for him being so far away. Ben's heart twisted now as he wondered if the two Wadsworth men had resolved whatever issues had set them on opposite sides of the country.

He finally slipped a finger beneath the flap of the telegram. He had a good idea what it would say, and was already thinking ahead to what he'd need to do. The message was simple and seemingly emotionless. His oldest son was stoic to a fault at times, but the words told him all he needed to know of Adam's state of mind.

 _WADSWORTH FAMILY DIED AT SEA(stop) SEE NEWSPAPER IF AVAILABLE(stop) MEMORIAL SERVICE OCTOBER 17(stop) YOUR ATTENDANCE APPRECIATED IF POSSIBLE(end)_

His heart broke for his eldest as he reread the words, and translated the last part to, "I need you, Pa." He wrote a quick response, placed it in the tote bag, and carried that along with the newspaper and telegram to the table. "If you're finished, Ricky, I'd appreciate you heading back. I want your father to send a response as quickly as possible.

Ricky shoved the last of his bacon and biscuit in his mouth and washed it down with his remaining milk before placing the bag over his shoulder and grabbing his hat on the way to the door. He was used to hurrying in his family's business, and liked taking the yellow envelopes to the recipients. Sometimes they laughed as they read them; other times they cried, but they always gave him a "little something" for his effort. This time had been even better. He'd gotten a good breakfast, and as he'd gotten up from the table, Mr. Cartwright had slipped folding cash into his hand along with a verbal thank you, and a pat on the back. He'd wait until he was a little ways from the house before looking to see how much it was, but in this case, he knew he'd be very happy.

Hoss asked, "So what's Adam got to say?" as soon as the door closed behind Ricky.

Ben stopped pushing dishes aside to look at his sons. Both were ginning at him and he laughed. "So I wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to my boys. Is that so awful?"

"Not awful at all," Joe replied as he watched his father's grin fold to a frown. "But I can tell by your face that this isn't a friendly note to let you know that they're coming for a visit or having another baby."

Ben placed the paper on the table between Hoss and Joe. "This happened over a week ago, but I suppose it took that long for the details to make it to the states and then for Adam to make plans."

"Boy, that's a lot of loss for our older brother. I wonder how he's doing." Joe said after scanning the print; his somber tone reflecting his concern.

"I'm sure he's been very busy with arrangements, and there's probably a lot of tension at the office. He won't be able to do much more than keep things afloat until he finds out the disposition of things in Frank's will."

Joe smiled sadly at his father. "So when are you leaving?"

"It's the fifth of October and we've got a week-and-a-half to make it there for the memorial. If we have one of the crew take us to Reno tomorrow, we can catch the train and get there in about eight days. That would get there a day or two before the service."

"You sure we can all go?" Hoss asked.

"The herds are separated and fattening for our last fall orders. Our crews are capable of moving them out next week. The timber contracts are all filled and we won't do winter pasturing until mid-November, so it's a perfect time for us all to go. I'll go over the plans with the foremen today, and I'll take the ledgers along to work on during the trip." He thought a moment. "And it's not like they can't reach us with a telegram if there's trouble." He knew his sons were glad to be included in the trip, but the joy of going was reduced by the reason. "You two get packed, and then get as many of the weekly chores done as you can today. Write up lists for what needs to be done going forward."

"That telegram says there's a memorial service. What do people wear to somethin' like that in Boston?" Hoss gulped. "I ain't lookin' forward to getting' gussied up and minglin' with a lot of fancy folks."

Ben shot his middle son a harsh look. "You're doing this for your brother, and I'll hear no complaints about your hardships."

"Sorry, Pa. I didn't mean nothin' by it. I guess my nerves is showin' is all."

The look softened. "I'm sorry too, son. This is a shock, and we've all got a lot to do in a little time. But," the stern look returned as he addressed the sons on either side of him, "you two will need to keep your shenanigans, verbal sparring, and opinions to a minimum when we're there, or you'll make things even harder for Adam." He squinted as he thought back to the original question that had started this exchange. "Just bring a couple of nice shirts and pants. We'll buy something for the service in Boston." He thought again and added. "Bring some work clothes too. He'll need eyes and ears at his job sites. Crews will often slow down when there's an unknown situation, and other businesses might try to take advantage."

 **Two – Sunday, October 6, 1872**

Adam looked up and smiled as Melinda entered the room off the living area that served as his at-home office, and then refocused on the list in front of him. He normally spent Sunday afternoons with his family: but not this Sunday. The confirmation of the Wadsworth family's demise had come on Tuesday, and he'd spent almost every hour since then making plans, contacting people, and giving assurances. He'd telegraphed a notice to San Francisco for submission in the Friday _Chronicle_ , and hoped that Marv at the Western Union office in Virginia City had been able to find the correct paper to send along with the message to his family.

Melinda stood quietly next to his desk holding a small envelope with the Western Union symbol. He was concentrating so deeply on what was in front of him that she decided not to disturb him, and thought back over the last few tumultuous days as she waited for him to finish. The news of the catastrophe had hit them all like a sledge hammer. Adam had remained in complete control as he'd handled detail after detail associated with the sudden loss. He wasn't involved in the estate as an executor, but the lawyer for the family had asked Adam to plan the memorial service.

She'd cried her sorrow out before they'd explained the deaths to their children. AJ and Elizabeth's hearts had broken at the thought of not seeing Grandma Marian and Grandpa Frank again, but they were resilient and their sorrow was easing with each passing day. She'd worried more that Adam would go crazy if he didn't release his pain.

Her fear for his sanity had lessened some when she'd found his side of the bed empty that morning and looked out the bedroom window after hearing noise in the back yard. It was barely light, but she had seen him in the garden chopping at the dead vegetable plants like a man taking on a legion of demons. He'd stopped when he'd been too exhausted to swing the hoe again; dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. She'd teared up as well when she'd seen his back convulse with silent sobs. It had tortured her to see him cry, but she'd been relieved that he'd allowed himself to grieve. She'd always known that he kept his emotions close to his vest, but he'd opened his heart to her when they'd married. This was still so deep and raw that she understood that he'd have to experience it alone before sharing it with her.

"This just came," she said when he finished his notes. "The courier apologized for it being delayed. The system was down for a repair until a few hours ago."

"I thought I heard the bell." He smiled up at her as he laid his pencil down and took the telegram.

She stood behind him, peering over his shoulder as he opened it. A stack of similar envelopes was off to the side of his desk, all bearing condolences from clients and friends. But this one bore the origination point as Virginia City, and she hoped it bore news that would lift her husband's spirits. She rested her arms on his shoulders as she brushed his cheek with a kiss, and then read the message along with him.

"They're all coming!" His smile grew to a happy grin. "I hope they're bringing work clothes because I'm going to need their help."

Melinda kissed his cheek again and clicked her tongue. "Your father and brothers haven't even gotten here and you're already putting them to work?"

"Absolutely." He leaned back in his chair and took her hand as he moved her around to sit on his lap. "I could really use them to monitor the jobsites. We're having trouble—not with other companies trying to weasel their way in…yet—but with a few of our own people."

"What do you mean?"

"I visited each site as soon as the news about Frank broke; assuring them that everything would stay the same for now, and promising to keep them informed of anything that will affect them. Bill Murdoch, the lawyer for the Wadsworths, came with me. He verified that while the family did 'own' the engineering firm, it is independent from the personal estate. We run our own books and therefore can continue to operate without any changes until the new owner is named."

Her brows neared as her face pinched into a question. "Are there money worries at the firm?"

Adam rubbed his forehead. "The company is doing _very_ well. When I took over, I bought new equipment and that cut into profits for a year. But those changes allowed the men to work faster and safer, so we were able to do more jobs and finish on time. Frank always said that walking away from his own business was the best thing he ever did. He likened it to the parable of the five talents**, and said that if he'd entrusted the company to another man, they might have continued to do things as they'd always been done, but there'd have been no growth. I took chances with what he'd given me and nearly doubled the gross income in a little over two years, and it's quadrupled now." He chuckled. "I know he wasn't enamored with some of my early decisions, but he let me make them." A deep sigh escaped followed by a sniff.

Melinda touched his cheek. "This is a great loss for all of us, but even more so for you." She thought a moment. "Did Bill give you any idea who inherits the business? He must know."

He shook his head. "Frank's remaining relatives either run their own companies or are in academia. It wouldn't make sense for them to change what's working so well." The sad smile returned. "That's not to say there isn't a nephew or cousin who might need a job, and I'd be dismissed so they could have my position."

"They'd be fools." She grinned and kissed him squarely on the lips. "Besides, there isn't a firm in this city that wouldn't welcome you greedily!" Her brows dipped. "We got off track. What's going on with the crews at the sites?"

"Frank was tough, but very popular with his men. He personally handed out bonuses when jobs were completed on-time; knew every man well enough that he could ask about their families, and always had a quarter keg of beer delivered to the sites on Friday afternoon when the crew met their goals for the week. I continued those traditions when I took over. We're shutting down work next Thursday for the service, and sending lunch to the individual sites on Friday. I'll go around to each luncheon and give them time to talk about the family and thank them for their good efforts. That seemed to satisfy them. Yet we heard about one naysayer almost immediately. Barney works at the inland harbor site. He had that crew at a standstill on Friday while he spewed his bile about how we'll keep them working but then have no money to pay them."

"What will you do?"

"The same thing Pa and I did with the troublemakers in our bunkhouse. I'll go see him tomorrow and explain that no man is irreplaceable. Then I'll tell him that if he continues to spread rumors, he will personally experience the truth of that statement."

"Will the other men rally behind him if he's fired?" Melinda's tone had turned to concern.

"I've learned that a crew will agree with a negative person to their face, but they're usually tired of the complaining too. We have good men, and if I don't address the main offender, it will become an infection and spread from one site to the next."

Melinda grinned and then pursed her lips. "I know men don't like advice from women, but I had a similar situation at the publishing company. We had to rearrange staff and retrain a few people for other jobs when we got the new press last year. There was one man who simply refused to believe that we wouldn't fire them all as soon as the renovation was done. He had the entire press team in a frenzy."

"I remember that, but I can't remember what you did."

"I told him pretty much what you will say to Barney, but then I set him up to help oversee the press installation. I couldn't have done that if he hadn't been qualified, but once he was part of the process, he couldn't complain about it."

Adam gave her a hug. "Barney is very knowledgeable and it would be a shame to lose him. Maybe I'll make him the official liaison between me and the crews. He can tell me what's bothering the men, and then can get back to them with the correct answers." He squeezed her tighter. "It will be hard for him to complain when he's responsible for keeping morale up. Thank you."

Melinda stood and tugged on his arm. "You've worked enough for the day. Why don't we get the children from Abel and Sadie and go out to the Wadsworth estate to ride. I know Elizabeth would love to be on her pony."

He closed his eyes and bit his lip as he considered her request. "I think it best if we stay away for now. The ownership is in limbo, and I wouldn't want the eventual heir to think we were out there taking the silverware."

"They wouldn't!" She noticed the slight curve to his lips and swatted him. "I suppose you're right though…." Her humor vanished as she added, "It's so inconceivable to think that Frank and Marian won't ever live there again."

Adam pulled out his handkerchief, turning away to wipe across his eyes. "We were fortunate to have them as family." A deep sigh escaped. "I'm not sure why Bill asked me to plan the service. I'd have thought he'd ask the heir. But I'm honored to help and I suppose this is aimed more at the people the Wadsworths knew through business and their charitable work rather than family. I hope it goes as I've envisioned it." He winked at Melinda. "I should say as _we've_ envisioned it. I'm thankful for your help."

"We've gone over each detail. It will be a fitting tribute done out of love and respect."

"You're right about that. And you're right about me needing to do something different. Let's get the Stoddards and our children, and walk to the park. We'll find a restaurant for dinner and forget all this," he pointed at the piles of paper on his desk, "for a few hours."

 **Three – Friday, October 11, 1872, 7 AM**

Hoss had to turn sideways to stretch in the aisle of the sleeper car after exiting his berth. He smacked his lips and groaned as he tried to get the kinks out of his back from sleeping on the short bed.

Little Joe opened the curtain to his berth and hissed, "Why do you have to make so much noise when you stretch?"

"I can't help it." Hoss leaned on Joe's bunk. "I'm feelin' a like a big dog that's been curled in a small cage."

Ben was already up, dressed, and reading the newspaper in the seating area of the car. He shook his head as he eyed his sons. "You two complain about these conditions in a five-day trip across the country. It took Adam and me several years to get from Boston to Missouri as I worked along the way to keep us going. And then it took another four months in a crowded wagon, sleeping on the ground most nights to get to Wyoming where we wintered."

Joe blushed at his father's reprimand, but it didn't stop him from interjecting, "And it was uphill the entire way too."

Hoss laughed as he added, "And somewhere along the way you gained an extra passenger who cried a lot, threw up on all yer clean shirts, and wet his diapers."

Ben gave his sons a stern look, and then laughed along with them. "I guess I have told that story a few times. Still, we are fortunate to be living in such of modern age where new innovations come along every day."

Ticket prices that included access to the sleeping car were prohibitive—probably accounting for why the Cartwrights had been the only occupants for most of the trip. But Ben had paid the extra rate so they wouldn't be over-tired when they reached their destination. Ben had first planned to leave Sunday, but he'd found out there was an express train going through on Monday that would cut the trip to a mere five days…if everything went well. The express only stopped at major stations, so it was a good choice for those making cross country trips. Both cargo and passengers paid a premium for the service, and the railways gave these trains preferential use of the track system. The trip had gone smoothly and they were scheduled to arrive in Boston later in the morning.

"I do thank you for spending the extra money for the sleepin' accomodations, Pa," Hoss offered apologetically. "It's just that nothin' seems to fit a guy of my size, so I get to feelin' a little cramped and cranky. But it sure does beat sleepin' sittin' up on a bench with yer neck snappin' every time the train jerks. I recall how it was when you and me went to Boston a few years back. And who knows, maybe one day we'll get us a fine rail car like Adam's company has."***

"I'm not holding my breath on Pa purchasing a decked-out Pullman car for us," Joe giggled. "Then again, we could build a spur out to the ranch and park it there when we weren't going anywhere, and use it as a guest house."

"Enough of your big plans." Ben shook his head as he eyed his sons, and then laughed. "Get dressed and we'll have breakfast at the next stop. I arranged for the porter to wire ahead so it'll be ready when we get there." His face dropped to the concerned frown that had become the norm over the trip. "We'll have lunch in Boston."

"That won't come soon enough for you," Joe teased. "I wonder how Adam's holding up."

"He won't show nothin' being wrong, but you'll see his tells like always," Hoss supplied. "People think he don't get sad or feel miserable because he has that poker face, but you see it in his eyes if you know what to look for."

"He sighs a lot when he's upset too." Joe thought a moment, and added, "And his jaw clenches when he thinks about what's bothering him, but he'll never admit to any of it."

"Of course he's extremely saddened by this. And he's got to keep the business going while the estate is in limbo. The will could be read pretty quickly under normal circumstance, but I'm sure it's a huge estate with many elements. And that's not taking into consideration the possibility that no heir is named beyond Frank's children. Adam's troubles won't end there if the new owner lets him go or worse, if the estate goes into limbo for a long period. Wadsworth Engineering won't be able to withstand years of squabbling over ownership."

"Adam's got enough money to weather that, and he's so good at what he does, he won't have trouble finding work," Joe offered.

"That's true." Ben motioned his sons to sit by him. "Money or a job isn't the issue. It's another loss added to the rest of it. Frank entrusted Adam with his family business and your brother's innovations made it a powerhouse again. I don't think he would do well losing it to a situation over which he has no control." He became thoughtful. "The two of you keep me from becoming complacent, just as Adam did with Frank. I'm grateful for that and probably don't tell you enough. The Ponderosa stays strong and grows because of trying new things to complement what already works."

Hoss stood, but had to sidestep and grab the seat back when the train car lurched. He righted himself and laughed at his acrobatics. "I'm glad this ain't a ship or I'd go flying over the side when that happens." He took on a more serious tone. "And thanks for sayin' what you did about Joe and me bein' a help, Pa. I can't imagine what it would be like if someone got hold'a the Ponderosa, and Adam probably feels purdy much the same way about this engineerin' company. Turning it over to someone else would leave a hole in him fer sure."

 **Four – Friday Morning, October 5, 1872 – Boston,**

Adam smiled, put down his coffee cup and newspaper, and shoved his chair away from the table when he heard the giggling at the top of the stairs followed by the pounding of little feet down the steps. He knew what was coming and spread his arms to greet his children.

Three-year-old Elizabeth ran across the living room, climbed up onto her father's lap, and threw her arms around his neck. A kiss to his cheek preceded her, "G'morning, Daddy." She placed a hand on either side of his face and made him look directly at her. "You don't look so sad like you did the yesterdays before."

"I'm not so sad as the yesterdays, my love," he said as he gave her a bear hug, kissed her forehead, and then shuttled her to a perch on his left knee to free the other leg for his son.

Adam Cartwright Junior, or AJ, as he was called, was six, going on thirty, and while more reserved, still liked sitting on his father's lap. AJ walked across the room to allow his sister ample time to give her greeting, and then backed up to his father's vacant knee. He jumped while Adam's arm encircled him and lent upward thrust. The little boy traded a kiss with his father and said, "Lizzy's right, Daddy. You don't look so sad today. Mommy said that Grandma and Grandpa Wadsworth are in Heaven now, so we should be happy for them…even though we miss them."

Adam pulled his son tighter to him and kissed the top of his head. "Mommy's right, and I haven't been so much sad, as busy. I have many things to do for Grandpa Frank, and Grandma Marian. Helping them makes me happy, even though remembering why I'm doing these things can make me sad." He gave both children a squeeze. "I'll need you two to remind me that I shouldn't be."

Elizabeth's face puckered as she sniffed. "I miss them Daddy, and that makes me sad. But I can't help it."

"It's all right to feel sad that they aren't here any longer, sweetheart. When we lose people we love, our feelings get all tangled up, just like that chain on the pretty necklace you wear. Those knots make you sad, but we work them out and it's good again." He sighed into a smile, fearing that his explanation was too complicated.

The little girl nodded. "That chain would never get them knots if I kep' it in the box, but it's too bootiful to do that. Mommy says we can't be afraid of doin' somethin' just cuz it takes a little work."

"Mommy's right again. We loved the Wadsworths so much, and they're too beautiful to keep them from our thoughts just so we don't feel sad."

AJ had been quiet, but he tugged on his father's shirt. "Can I tell you something, Daddy?"

Adam laughed internally. His son was so serious. The boy was always thinking and forming opinions, but instead of just saying them, he'd preface each statement with the question he'd just asked. "You have been very patient in waiting to give your thoughts, AJ, and I thank you for letting your sister finish first."

"When I feel sad about the Wadsworths, I talk to them."

Elizabeth giggled as she snuggled into her father's chest. "AJ's silly. How can he talk to them when they're in Heaven?"

"Be respectful Elizabeth," Adam cautioned. "Your brother's thoughts aren't silly."

The boy was unaffected by his sister's remark, and continued. "In church we learn that God hears us, so now that Grandma and Grandpa Wadsworth are with Him, maybe they can hear us too."

"I think that's good reasoning, son. What do you tell them?"

AJ sat up straighter and looked down as he swung his legs. "I say I miss them and will never forget them, and I hope they're very happy."

Adam sniffed as he blinked hard to clear his eyes. "That's just fine; I think they're very pleased to hear from you." He pulled both children in a little tighter and inhaled. He'd always imagined he'd have children, but the long wait to receive this gift made it even sweeter. There was a scent about them he loved, and he breathed deeply again to experience it. He couldn't say exactly what it was, but imagined it was the smell of soap enhanced by innocence. "You know who's coming today?" he asked brightly to change the mood.

AJ Jumped from his lap and ran around the room hollering, "Grampa Ben, Uncle Horse, and Uncle Little Joe." He stopped his circle as he chewed his lip. "I never met Uncle Joe, but I remember the other two…a little."

"Then it's about time they came to visit, isn't it?" He noted Elizabeth's worried look. Where AJ was outgoing, his daughter was shy, and he knew the pending arrival of strangers was making her uneasy. He tipped her face up and spoke softly. "Don't you worry, sweetheart, you're going to like them. And they'll love you to pieces. Grandpa Ben can growl like a bear but he's as gentle as a kitten, and he'll be so happy to meet you. Your uncle Hoss is as big as a tree, but as gentle as a breeze, and Little Joe is just a big kid himself, so you'll have lots of fun." He saw her mouth turn downward in her usual pout. "You'll have to give them a chance, Lizzy. Don't be afraid."

He was still giving Lizzy a hug of encouragement when Jillian, the children's nanny, came downstairs. Having live-in help for the children was a requirement for the Cartwright family. Melinda had used profits from her teaching manuals to purchase an equal share of the publishing company where she worked. She brought manuscripts home to work on for part of the day, but she was needed at the office for a while each day to go over business matters.

"Good morning, Mr. Cartwright." Jillian gave him a quick nod and smile as she gathered the two charges and got them seated at the table. "I heard what you said about your family arriving today. I'm anxious to meet them too."

"They're easy to be around. And thank you for all your help over the last week. I know Melinda and I have been absent making arrangements for the service, and you've helped immeasurably with the children. We couldn't have handled this without you." She smiled with the compliment and headed toward the kitchen to get the plates ready for AJ and Elizabeth. Adam stood and addressed his children. "I have to leave for work, so you two be good and listen to Jillian. Your mother has to be gone a few hours too, but she'll see you before she goes." He listened and looked toward the front windows to confirm what he'd heard. "My ride is here. I'll be back in the afternoon with the rest of the Cartwright family." He gave each child a quick kiss, and trotted up the steps to say goodbye to Melinda.

She was exiting their bedroom when he got to the top of the steps. "Are you leaving already?" she asked.

"I made early appointments so I can take Pa and my brothers out for lunch when they arrive." He pressed a long kiss to her lips. "It's been a long week and I'm looking forward to seeing them. I have the last of the client meetings today and then I'll be able to finalize the service preparations. I hope these…'conversations' will be enough to assuage the doubt our customers felt when they heard the news. Unfortunately, I can only guarantee what will happen until the new owner is named."

Melinda gave him a quick peck on his lips and smiled. "Most of your clients went through some trepidation when you took over the company, and since that went so well, they'll trust you in this."

"You're right." He chuckled. "I've been saying that you're right a lot lately. You were right about the crew and getting Barney to help instead of hinder. And your son and daughter just told me what you said about losing the Wadsworths, and that was right, and now you're probably right about this. I thought the husband was supposed to be the one with the brains in the family."

She grinned devilishly. "I didn't marry you for your brain, my love. I do adore your brain, but I've come to appreciate some other parts too."

He pulled her even closer, sighing as his body flooded with heat as it always did when she was near. "Oh yeah? And just what parts might those be?"

She whispered her answer in his ear, making her husband blush. "But I've also come to cherish your heart. You have the compassion and love of a hundred men inside you. It's why people trust you; why our children idolize you, and why I can't breathe when I think of ever being without you."

 **Five – Noon-Friday, October 11th**

The three Cartwrights were approached by a man in uniform as they exited the train station in Boston.

"Mr. Cartwright sends his apologies, sirs, but he was still in a meeting when it came time to leave."

Ben extended his hand to the man he recognized as the carriage driver for Wadsworth Engineering. "You're Jimmy, if I remember correctly. Thank you for coming for us. Will you be taking us to the house?"

"No, sir. The boss said I should bring you to the office first. He'll be done by the time we get there, and he'll take you out for lunch."

Hoss renewed his acquaintance with the young driver, and then introduced Joe before the three men climbed inside the large vehicle.

"Adam's got a driver? Has he become such a city guy that he forgot how to steer his own buggy?" Joe's tone was teasing, trimmed with a fringe of envy.

"This rig belongs to the company, Joe," his father explained. "Adam has it on hand during the day so he and his men can get to where they need to be, and for transporting clients."

Joe ran his hand across the soft leather of the seats and looked out the window. "I was kidding, Pa. I guess I knew that his life is different now, but I'm just beginning to see how different." He continued looking outside. "I can't get over the look of these buildings. They're brick and stone and old. There's nothing like this back home." He thought back to what he'd known all his life. "Well maybe there are a few older buildings in San Francisco and a little more in St. Louis and New Orleans, but nothing like this. I saw the cornerstone on a church we passed with the date, 1795, and a big tombstone in the cemetery next to it had 1689 chiseled on it."

"I forget that you've never been this far east, Joseph. If you pay attention, you'll see buildings and places you learned about in your history lessons at school, and there are even older structures tucked in where you don't readily see them."

"I got a question, Pa," Hoss ventured as he shifted in his seat. "What do I say to Adam when we get there?"

"You can offer your condolences; say you're sorry for his loss," Ben suggested. "Our presence says more than our words ever can. And of course we'll offer to help in any way he needs us."

"How long will we stay?" Joe laughed at his own question. "I know you're going to say that we just got here, but I notice you didn't get round-trip tickets."

"I'll stay as long as he needs me." The worried father turned towards the window. "I won't know that until we're here a while. If need be, you two can head home before me." What he didn't share was that he hoped to stay through the reading of the will so that he'd know what Adam would face as his future. "For now, we'll plan on staying a couple of weeks. We'll see what your brother needs from us and get a little exploring in before we head back." He nodded to his youngest. "It would be a shame to leave without you seeing the heritage here."

Adam was escorting his clients to the door when his family walked in. He offered hasty goodbyes to the people he was with and made his way across the room. "You all are a sight for sore eyes!" He shook hands and accepted condolences with a nod and a pat on Hoss and Joe's back as he offered a quiet, "Thank you."

Ben looked around the office and asked, "Have you let people go, son? It seems like there are fewer men than last time."

"I've actually hired four new engineers and three crews in the last year, but we're doing things differently. Instead of having everyone at this office, I had portable offices built on low wagon beds that we move to the construction sites. It's the way they did it in England. The main engineer can work on-site so he's there to address day-to-day problems. They all seem to like it."

Joe nodded. "I suppose it keeps construction foremen from having to run back here every time they have a question."

Adam beamed at his youngest brother. "That was my reasoning too." He slapped Joe's back. "You're really becoming a businessman, little brother."

"I think that's the same reason at least one of us Cartwrights goes along on the bigger cattle drives," Hoss added. "We can make decisions and the men don't need to worry when there's a problem or change of plans."

They'd moved into Adam's office as he complimented Hoss's reasoning. He turned to wink at his father before saying, "If you two want to leave the ranch and work in the city, I'll hire you both to oversee our worksites." His brothers were protesting a change to city life when a rumble from Hoss's stomach turned the conversation to finding a place for lunch. "There's a nice café down the block," Adam offered as he straightened his desk. "Let me talk to a few people and we'll be on our way."

The youngest Cartwright gave the office a thorough looking over once his brother left. "This is some place, and I saw the sign on the door proclaiming him the Director and General Manager."

Ben nodded. "Don't forget he's earned this. Knowing the Wadsworth family helped get his foot in the door, but Frank made him prove himself before he put him in charge. I'd imagine you two would be just as productive if you ever decided to follow a different career than ranching."

"That's because of you, Pa," Hoss said as he smiled. "You always made us work hard and finish what we started." He blushed to a rosy pink as he considered that his compliment sounded more like a complaint. "I don't mean you worked us too hard, just that we learned from you."

Adam stuck his head inside the door. "I'm all set; let's head out before Hoss faints from lack of nourishment."

A quick glance toward Frank's old office on the way out, made Ben stop to ask, "When did you redo this?"

A look washed across Adam's face, revealing the exhaustion and pain he'd kept hidden so far. He took his family inside to show them the space that had housed his former boss. "It was Frank's idea to make a change, and we came up with a conference room. He said that the others wouldn't look to me as the boss if his office remained his 'empty tomb'." He ran his hand along the smooth, shiny surface of the table and smiled. "This was Frank's desk. It was so big that he put it in place and then built his office enclosure around it. I had cabinetmakers remove the top, finish the raw edges, and then add table legs. They used some of the remaining wood on the matching chairs, and the drawers were used for that cabinet on the far side of the room."

"Did Frank like what you did?" Ben asked with a wary look?

"He appreciated that I didn't get rid of his things, and said he still felt at home when he used this space during his visits. I think he wished he'd made a conference room years back after seeing how well it worked for meetings and proposal presentations. Frank dreaded innovation and change as much as other long-time businessmen, but he didn't let that stop him. He'd grumble and grouse and tell me a hundred times a day that he didn't think something would work. Yet that never stopped him from taking credit for it when all went well." He sniffed and swallowed hard. "It's inconceivable that he won't come storming into the work area with some new job he'd heard about, demanding that we come up with an idea no one else would have. He was loud, stubborn and opinionated. But he was also fair, reasonable and always current with trends and opportunities. Everyone trusted him and loved working here."

Joe coughed as he suppressed a laugh. "I know you're suffering a big loss, Adam, but I also think I know why you got along so well with Frank Wadsworth." Adam's brows were pinched in question when he looked across the table at his brother. "Doesn't that description sound a lot like someone else we all know?"

"I agree with Joe," Hoss offered. "Ya might have left the ranch, but you settled in here with another man who was just like Pa."

Lunch got off to a quiet start with each Cartwright feeling his way back into a table of four again. Before long the jabs were flying, and for an hour Adam was able to forget the burden he was carrying. It was as they lingered over coffee that the conversation returned to the present necessities.

"You wrote that the memorial service is next Thursday," Ben began. "So what do you need us to do in the meantime?"

Adam's smile was sly. "I was hoping you'd ask. We'll relax a little over the weekend while you get to know my little ones and recover from the trip. Come Monday, I'd like you to work for me at the jobsites."

Ben eyebrows narrowed as he asked, "What's your main concern with the crews?"

"It's not the crews I'm worried about." He looked around the table. "I've already talked to them. Then there's the fact that their wages are a lot higher than at other places, so I think they'll take their chances with us. But…that doesn't mean other companies won't start whispering in their ears, trying to lure them away or make them distrust us."

"Whadaya think they'll do?" Hoss asked

"They'll start by sending people to our sites to spread rumors about the company falling apart. You'll be my eyes and ears out there." He looked toward his brothers. "You two can work with the men if you're inclined to do that, and Pa, I'll put you on the newest sites where there's still a lot of ground work going on." He gave his family a minute to consider their assignments. "Are you all game?"

"If it means I don't have to keep dressin' in fancy duds, I'll be happy as pie to do it," Hoss offered eagerly.

"I agree with Hoss." Joe grinned. "Are any of these sites somewhere that pretty girls walk by?"

"This is Boston, Joe. Pretty girls are always walking by." Adam nodded toward the window to make his point as a lovely blonde strolled past with a parasol on her shoulder to protect her fair skin from the sun.

Joe's grin widened. "I might just like this city better than I thought."

Adam brought the group back to business. "The crews will be off next Thursday, and I'll visit each group on Friday during lunch to thank them for sticking with us.

"Will you be joined by anyone from the Wadsworth family?" The question was posed by Ben.

"I invited them, but no one has expressed interest."

"I didn't get the feeling that either Frank or Marian had a large family."

"You're right, Pa. They were both only children. There were aunts and uncles on both sides, but they're all gone now, leaving only cousins."

"What do ya think the heirs will do with what they get?" Hoss asked.

Adam looked down and pushed his plate away as he propped his elbows on the table. "I've considered this, and I'm to the point where I'd bet that the heir will sell it all off. None of the cousins I know would have the background to operate a firm like Wadsworth Engineering."

Silence hovered over the table like a Boston fog as the three visitors calculated the personal and emotional toll this would take on Adam. Ben looked over and saw the anguish on his son's face and realized he had to change the subject.

"We didn't bring clothes for the service, figuring you'd recommend a tailor who could help us." He stopped for a moment as Adam started to focus again. "I imagine we should get going on that since Hoss's size will be a concern."

"I'd say you're right." Adam pulled a note pad from his pocket along with a pencil. "I'll write down the store name and a description of what you'll need. Jimmy can take you there now, and let the staff get started on your suits while I finish up a few details for next week. We'll all head home once you're done."

"How fancy are we gonna have to get?" Hoss asked as he looked like he'd bitten into something sour.

"This is going to be more dressy than you're used to for a funeral, but the proper attire for this won't be that different than what you've had to wear to formal functions in San Francisco." He began making a list on the pad in front of him. "You'll need a regular dark suit, but it doesn't need to be black; a white shirt, black tie, and dark gloves. My suit will have a longer vest, and cutaway coat4*, but you can be less formal."

"Sounds almost like a tuxedo." Joe giggled but was glared into silence by his father.

"The cutaway doesn't have tails, or it would be. Oh, and you'll need dark hats with black hatbands too." He wrote more on the paper before handing it off to his father. "This should cover it, but I'm sure Emelio at the haberdashery will remember what I've forgotten. They're used to handling clothing for big funerals, so he should have something for all of you." He chewed his lip before finishing his coffee. "I know we could get away with wearing a white shirt and a string tie for funerals back home, but Frank is a legend in this city, and I want to honor him as he'd expect and deserves."

Hoss was the first to respond. "Heck, Adam, I'd dress in a tutu if that's what you needed me to do. And besides, I think I'll look kinda like a gentleman decked out like that."

Ben sent his two younger sons on ahead during the walk back to the office so he could address a point with his eldest. "I know it's premature for this, but I think talking about it now might relieve some pressure."

"What's up, Pa? You sound so serious."

"I saw how much this business means to you, and how painful it will be having someone who knows nothing about it, sell it or make a mess of it."

Adam's voice held a resigned sadness. "There's not much I can do if it happens."

"Perhaps there is. Why don't _you_ buy it?"

Adam's loud laugh made Hoss and Joe turn around, but they continued walking when viewing their father's "butt-out" look.

"I'm well-set, Pa. I had some good investments back in Virginia City that paid off nicely, and both Melinda and I are doing well. I'm sure you remember that Frank gave us an endowment for our wedding that keeps us from fearing the uncertainties of life, but the business is worth so much right now I can't make a bid on it without putting us in serious debt. It would be like someone trying to buy the Ponderosa operation outright. Someone could bid on the land or the timber or cattle businesses, but the total is pretty hefty for any one person to take on."

"What if the Ponderosa made you a loan on your share?" Ben let the offer float as he watched his son's face for a reaction. "Just because you aren't working there, doesn't mean you aren't still a shareholder. You helped me make it as profitable as it is today, and I would gladly free up some cash to help you out." He grinned as he looked over at Adam. "We could become a conglomerate."

Adam took his father's arm and stopped him. "Thank you, Pa. It's a generous offer, and typical of you. You'd risk everything to make one of us happy and have a better life. But I've thought this through, and if I'm replaced or the business is sold; I'll move on. The unknown can bring some wonderful surprises."

He smiled at his son. "Moving back to Boston and marrying Melinda worked out pretty well, so you might be right."

"It did." He returned the smile. "I can't imagine any circumstance where you'd lose the Ponderosa, yet if that happened, you would build again, even it meant starting from the ground up. It's what Cartwrights do; it what we've always done. And I will be fine." He stepped forward and wrapped his father in an embrace. "I've missed, you, Pa; more than I can say, and I'm so grateful…and happy that you're here."

 **Six – Later in the Day**

Melinda was in the yard playing with her children when the coach dropped off the four Cartwrights. She hurried over, and after a kiss and hug for each of the "guests," she pulled her father-in-law aside to speak privately. "I am so happy you all came. Adam has been as controlled as you probably imagined he'd be, but having you here will take his mind off his bigger troubles. He's probably told you of his plans for you already."

Ben nodded as he squeezed Melinda's hand. "That's why we're here. Well, that and it will give me a chance to get to know my grandchildren."

Hoss and Joe had remained in the yard while Adam had gone to get his children for introductions. AJ had disappeared into the house as soon as he'd seen his uncles arrive, and Elizabeth had run to her father, and was hiding behind him, holding tightly to his leg. He was about to call for his son, when the boy bounded out the back door carrying the wooden barn and box of hand-carved animals that Hoss had given him when he'd come to welcome Adam and his family back from England.5* The boy flew past his father and stopped in front of his uncle.

"See," he said as he raised the barn up for Hoss's inspection. "I still have everything you made for me. I know the names of all the horses, and Daddy's told me what everything was used for because I was just a baby when you gave them to me and didn't remember."

"Whoa there, little feller," Hoss said as he scooped the youngster into his arms. "Let me get a big hug first, and introduce you to your other uncle, and then we'll go over each thing you got in that box."

AJ gave Ben a tight hug and said he "remembered him a little" from the last visit, and shook Joe's hand before reaching up to hug him too.

"Daddy tells me stories all the time about you and Hoss and him from when you was kids, Uncle Joe. He calls you Little Joe when he does that. How come you're just Joe now?"

"I grew up, I guess," Joe explained as he laughed. "Your grandpa did warn me that _you'd_ be very grown up for a boy who's just six, and he was right."

"Would you play with the Ponderosa barn with Uncle Hoss and me?"

"In a little while, I promise. First I need to meet your great grandpa." Joe pointed to the back of the house next door where an older man and woman were making their way down the porch steps."

Adam made the introductions between Abel, Sadie and Little Joe, and then stepped back to pry his daughter from his leg. "It's time for you to meet my family, Lizzy. I know you're shy but you have to do this."

Elizabeth grabbed onto her father's leg more tightly with one arm as she used her other one to make an exaggerated point toward Ben. She motioned for her father to bend down, and whispered, "He's the man in the picture."

"What picture?" Adam had asked for a picture of his Ponderosa family, but they hadn't gotten it done yet.

"The one with Grandma Elizabeth…that's over there." She pointed toward the window of the room that had been Elizabeth and Ben's when they'd lived with Abel. "She told me to look at that picture last week, and not to be afraid of the man when I saw him."

His daughter's revelation about talking to her dead grandmother didn't even raise Adam's eyebrow. He was used to the communication that went on between his mother and his children.5* It had been happening ever since AJ had nearly drowned some years earlier at the hands of a crazy woman, and it had continued ever since. Both Elizabeth and AJ told him things from time-to-time that they had no way of knowing, and he'd come to accept that there were forces at work that he wasn't privy to.

Abel, Sadie and Melinda talked with the family for a short time, and then begged their leave: the women to finish supper preparations, and Abel to "rest." Adam knew they'd gone to give the four men and the two newest Cartwrights a chance to get to know each other.

AJ had convinced his uncles to go with him to the benches in the yard, leaving Adam to introduce his daughter to her grandfather. He lifted her onto his hip, gave her a kiss on the cheek and stepped toward his father. "May I introduce Princess Elizabeth Cartwright."

She looked at her grandfather and smiled before burying her head in her father's shoulder.

Ben took her hand and said, "I am honored to be in the presence of Cartwright royalty. I think you're the prettiest princess I've ever seen."

She looked up again, and finally let go to reach toward the man she'd come to know in the picture next door. "Thank you, Grandpa Ben," she said softly when she was fully settled on his arm and holding onto his shoulders. She cupped her hands around his ear and whispered, "Grandma Elizabeth said I'd like you, and I do."

He wasn't sure what to think about her comment, but decided he could ask his son later, and embraced the little girl tightly.

Adam stood by, waiting to see if his daughter would remain comfortable with the new man in her life. Once he saw her whisper in his father's ear, he knew she'd be fine. It wasn't that she wasn't boisterous or didn't make her feelings known at full volume most times, but the sweet, intimate moments where she'd cup her hands and speak directly to him always swelled his heart.

She giggled at the hug and said, "Daddy said you were a bear, and that was a good bear hug."

Ben eyed his son over the child's head, and received a pink-cheeked shrug of "I'll explain later," in response.

She wasn't finished. "He said you liked kittens too. I like kittens. Mommy says I'm too little for a kitten, but I'm this many years." She held up three fingers. "So I am old!"

The proud father waited a few more minutes to assure that his daughter was comfortable, and then walked toward the trio going over the Ponderosa animals. He didn't intrude on the conversation, and kept an eye on the other two as they walked hand-in-hand around the yard examining each colored leaf and late-blooming flower. He could hear Elizabeth chattering about whatever came to mind, while his father added his, "Unhuh," or "That's interesting."

When they finished their tour, Ben brought Elizabeth over to the others, and she walked over to the box of animals to pull out the Cochise horse.

Hoss had been sitting but stood when his father came over, and Adam could see Elizabeth's eyes widen while her mouth dropped open as she looked up at the giant of a man in front of her. He was about to intervene before she started to cry or ran away, but he stopped his advance when Hoss knelt next to her.

"Whatcha got in yer hand, sweetheart?" He asked gently. She opened it to reveal the painted carving. "Is that yer favorite one?" She nodded. "Can you tell me why you like him more'n all the rest?"

"It's got spots." The fear was gone. "I told Daddy I want a pony with spots but he says there aren't no ponies like this in Masta-choots."

"Massachusetts," Adam provided at Hoss's questioning look.

"Yer daddy's probably right," Hoss continued. "That one's name is Cochise; he's a painted Indian pony. I don't suppose there's a lot of that breed this far East." He grabbed Joe's sleeve and made him join him at eye level with the little girl. "Yer uncle Joe rides that pony." He reached into the box and pulled out the black horse. "I ride this one. You probably know his name is Chubby." He watched as Elizabeth's eyes shifted back and forth from him to Joe. "By the way, my name's Hoss, and this is Joe. We're yer daddy's brother, just like AJ is yours. That makes us yer uncles."

Joe reached for her hand and she let him take it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Elizabeth. I've waited a long time for this, and I'm so happy." He brought her tiny hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

"I think I like yous uncles," she said sincerely while nodding. The motion made her long, brown curls bounce. "I always wanted to meet you for a long, long, time too."

Adam watched in wonder as his daughter left her hand in Joe's and then made him stand up as she said he should come see her tea party. They walked off together while Hoss returned his attention to AJ. It seemed clear that his children had chosen the uncle they felt most comfortable being with. He turned when he felt an arm encircle his shoulders from behind and he smiled at his father.

"They are beautiful children, son. AJ looks just like you when you were little, and while Elizabeth has your eyes…and the same pout you had at her age, she resembles Melinda more overall. I'm so glad to be here."

"The feeling is mutual. Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness."6* He chuckled. "This is a wonderful day amid many horrific ones. Thank you, again."

Dinner was a happy occasion with Hoss proclaiming it the best meal he'd ever eaten, making Sadie blush and smile from ear-to-ear. Jillian took the children for baths and bedtime preparations after they finished eating, and the adults remained at the table reminiscing about the Wadsworths. Adam shared his memories of getting to know Marian, Frank Sr. and Frank Jr, when he'd first come to Boston, and Melinda reminded them how much Frank and Marian had helped when she'd been kidnapped shortly before their wedding, and with the other crises that had befallen them over the years.7* Ben spoke last, telling the others about getting to know the other man who'd called Adam, "son".

"I could tell that he saw you as one of his own," he said, focusing on his eldest. "You asked me once if it bothered me that you two were as close as you were. It did…at first, until I got to know Frank."

The conversation turned to questions about Melinda's family. "My parents moved to North Carolina, thanks to Frank. He found Papa a good job at an exporting company in Charlotte, and he's doing well there. He hadn't planned to work this late in life, but with my former brother-in-law squandering their savings on fake investments, he had no other choice but to keep at it for a while."

"Will they come for the funeral?" Hoss asked. "I'd like to see your folks again."

"My mother has sciatica, Hoss," Melinda explained. "She is regretful in not attending, but the trip would be too painful. They are both heartbroken over the situation."

"Sam and Miranda will be over tomorrow night, though." Adam saw his youngest brother's questioning look at the mention of these names. "Miranda is Melinda's younger sister, Joe. She was married to the scoundrel involved in the money scam, but she's married to Sam Greene now. Sam started as our physician, but he became a good friend too, and got to know Miranda through us. Pa and Hoss got to know them on their previous visit." He addressed the group again. "They've been here almost every day since this started, but thought this should be a Cartwright night."

The conversation was interrupted as AJ and Elizabeth came running in from the kitchen. Jillian had allowed them to make the trip between the two houses in their slippers and robes to say goodnight.

Adam corralled them. "Go around and give everyone a hug and kiss and then I'll take you home and tuck you in."

AJ shifted from foot-to-foot until he finally blurted out, "We'd kind'a like Uncle Hoss and Uncle Joe to read us stories and tuck us tonight, Daddy." He focused his dark, hazel eyes on his father's face. "If that's all right with you."

A silent nod and smile sent the youngsters to grab their favorite uncle's hand and pull them along.

Joe glanced over his shoulder with a look of panic. "What do I do to tuck them in, big brother?"

"They'll tell you what they need." He observed his youngest brother's look of uncertainty. "It'll be fun, Joe. And it'll get you ready for when you have your own little ones."

When the room quieted again, Melinda stretched and looked toward Sadie. "I suppose we should go do the dishes before it gets any later."

Ben's offer to help was refused as the women gathered the remaining things from the table and retreated to the kitchen, closing the door behind them. Sadie winked at her co-conspirator. "I imagine those three will have things to talk about, and this will give them time."

Abel and his son-in-law lit their pipes while Adam stretched out on the divan, sticking a pillow behind his back and angling himself into the corner.

Ben opened the discussion. "Are you in charge of the other Wadsworth business too now, son?

"There isn't any other Wadsworth business, Pa. You knew that Frank sold the one in England, and I wrote a letter telling you about Frankie's firm, but it's still in my desk." He grinned at his father. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you as things were happening, but Frank insisted on complete confidentiality when it came to money."

"I understand that. We don't tell anyone what we're thinking about doing with the ranch either." His face screwed up as he continued. "I remember you saying that Frank had tried to save the London office, but had decided against it when he realized Wadsworth had lost its chance to stay a leader in the market there." He leaned back and took a puff on his pipe. "I was telling your brothers on the trip about how quickly inventions are making our lives better, and most of that comes from advances in engineering."

"I agree, Pa. We can't stay on top of every new engineering process at Wadsworth, so we've concentrated on harbor construction. We got out ahead of the other U.S, companies in that area, and are doing very well for it." He grinned before adding, "I should probably tell you that Frank wasn't too upset over the loss in England. He'd found a new love there, and had already bought into a horse-racing syndicate that owned a number of derby winners and contenders. Frank just recently sold the house in London too, and planned to find a country home with stables when they returned after their trip to France.

"So, what made them sell the Frisco business?" Ben asked.

Adam blew out a deep breath and chewed his lip as he thought about how he could explain what had happened. "You remember that Frankie had a difficult time in the engineering program, but he got through with a little help. His heart was never in it though, yet he thought he'd like it more if he went to San Francisco after college and could prove himself there—a little further away from Frank's influence…and interference. I tried to talk him into staying in Boston for a year to get some actual engineering under his belt, and learn more about managing his own business, but he wouldn't hear of it. Frankie had been around his father's office his whole life, but I don't think he ever paid attention to all the things that went into making it a success."

"I always thought he was doing all right with his own firm. Was I wrong?" Ben asked thoughtfully.

Adam shook his head. "The first few years did go well, but that was because Frank had purchased an existing company with great contracts on the books and good engineers working on some wonderful projects like the Sacramento harbor refit." He shook his head again. "The strange thing is that in helping Frankie's group with the embarcadero, I got my feet wet in waterway engineering and liked it. Frankie, on the other hand, tired of the long process and vowed never to bid anything related to water again. It was more than that though. I could see that that Frankie was in over his head from early on. The first year I went there for the winter, we were busy with existing work, but I could see trouble as soon as Frankie had to start getting his own contracts.

"Frank told me that he wanted Frankie to be an engineer so he'd have a better idea how the whole process worked," Ben commented. "I'm getting the feeling that this didn't help as much as he'd hoped it would."

Adam's eyes lit up as he leaned forward. "You know how much I love drawing plans, doing the math, and then watching something come together from those numbers and lines on a sheet of paper. But even though Frankie could do that reasonably well, he did it grudgingly and just copied what every other engineer was doing in San Francisco."

"What would he have rather been doing?"

"That was the problem. He didn't know that either. Frank wasn't an engineer, but he was a superb businessman. His son didn't like chasing a deal any more than he did drawing up plans. I saw that Frankie's firm wasn't doing well when the year-end reports came through, but Frank always had an excuse for it. I only learned the truth of how bad it had gotten after it was sold, and I asked Frank why he'd let it go for little more than the cost of the office building."

Abel leaned forward, setting his pipe on the stand, and asked, "Did he give you an honest answer?"

"He said it had gotten bad, but he'd never wanted me to worry that I'd make Frankie feel ashamed for failing while the Boston office was growing in an unprecedented fashion. But Frank also said he should have known that I would never hold back just to save a friend some embarrassment—even if the friend was Frank's son. He finally let me see the ledgers. They showed that the only years Frankie had made a profit were those when I'd gone over during the winter to help."

"From what you've said, that probably didn't surprise you as much as Frank thought it might." The comment from Ben was punctuated by a chuckle.

Adam nodded. "You're right, Pa. The first time I went along with him to present a proposal, I presented the plan I'd drawn, and the client was excited about the project. But instead of getting the contract signed, Frankie let the conversation drift into chit-chat. When it came time to leave, the owner backed away, saying he'd think about it." He nodded at his father and then looked back at his grandfather. "Pa taught me that you always finish the deal first. I tried to teach Frankie by doing both the presentation and the negotiations for rest of the sales calls that year, but he had no spirit for it. I went on sales calls alone the other winters I was there, and sold a year's worth of work in a couple months for him."

A lopsided smile turned Ben's lips. "But then you went East…." He paused before saying, "I'm surprised Frank let that go on. You've been here for eight years already. That's a lot of time to keep propping up a failing business,"

Adam shrugged. "Frank made Frankie hire a salesman a few years ago. The books indicated that this addition helped them meet costs, but they still weren't turning a profit. Frank was beginning to complain openly about the situation, even going so far as to say that he'd given Frankie many chances to get things going right. He was considering what to do next when something happened to change everything."

Both older men leaned forward in expectation as Abel asked, "Did this happen early last spring? I remember the young man coming home for the first time in years, and you seemed distracted during his visit."

His grandson drew a deep breath as he closed his eyes. "I was in the unenviable position of being between the two Franks. Although he didn't give me the details of what was happening, Frank's less than favorable comments about his son's management were increasing. On the other hand, Frankie's unhappiness and frustration often poured out in the pages of his letters to me. His greatest fear was in disappointing his father, even while resenting that he felt pressured to follow in Frank's footsteps. He regularly asked me for business advice, but he never followed through."

Ben grinned. "So you're saying they both talked to you, but not to each other."

"That's it, Pa. And I wasn't going to broker this between father and son. It was something they had to figure out."

"I get it, son. Frankie wasn't a child, and neither of them should have needed an envoy."

Adam grinned at his father, "I know how hard it was to tell you I was leaving to come back here, but I knew you'd understand. The situation between the two Franks came to a head last March when Frank saw an article in the San Francisco Chronicle about a raid on a bar known for its ties to the worst criminal elements in the Bay area. Frankie's name was listed as one of those taken into custody. I've never seen Frank so angry, and he demanded his son come home for a 'summit'."

"I'm sure that was not a pleasant visit for either of them," Ben offered sadly.

"Marian said they mostly shouted at each other at first. I think Frank biggest concern was that his son's actions could have started gossip that might have made it to Boston. It sounds harsh, but this site was bringing in the income for the Wadsworth household and I'm sure we propped Frankie's bottom line when he didn't break even too."

"He was upset that Frankie's behavior exposed the family business to scandal." Ben commented as he shook his head again. "I can understand Frank's fear…and anger. It can take minutes to topple what years of sweat and hardship built. I'm sure you recall the lectures I gave you and your brothers about how what any one of you did in a moment of disregard could come back at all of us and the Ponderosa. Yet that never meant I wouldn't have stood behind you if had gotten into trouble. I imagine Frank felt the same way."

"The sad thing is that after the shouting, the two Franks finally were honest with each other. Frankie admitted that he just couldn't make himself like what he was doing. Then he told Frank about an opportunity he'd looked into."

"What kind of opportunity?" Ben asked as he walked behind his son and placed his hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Frankie wanted to move to Paris and invest in a restaurant called, Le Grand VéFour. He'd researched its financials, and the owners were looking for a partner to enlarge the operation rather than to merely keep the place afloat. Frank didn't know a thing about restaurant operation, but he _was_ intrigued by the possible diversification. He agreed to take a look at the place with Frankie during their vacation, and sent him back to Frisco to close things out there."

"So Frank was all right with his son's new ambitions?" Ben asked.

Adam chuckled softly. "Frank wasn't sure about it, but he wanted his son to have chance to try something that he didn't feel was expected of him. So Frank did what Frank did best; he helped clear up the legal problems in Frisco, sold the business, and moved forward. As it got closer to their time to meet in Paris, Frank began to brag about his son becoming a partner in a restaurant with patrons like Victor Hugo."

Silence lingered for a moment until Ben posed another question. "It does seem that they'd worked out their differences. I'm glad for that." He stopped to think. "I have another question. When I was here last time, waiting for your ship from England to arrive, Frank told me that he never sailed with all his family on the same ship. He had a fear of everyone perishing if the ship went down. Now it seems prophetic."

"Frank and Marian sailed alone to England, Pa. Frankie took the train to New York and sailed from there, and stayed with his sister in Cherbourg until they all met on the coast for the pleasure sail. I suppose Frank didn't see any threat in a short cruise around the Channel Islands. They had planned to hug the coastlines."

Adam felt in his pockets and laughed. "I thought I'd tucked a letter in this jacket, but it must have been a different one. The days are running together. Anyway, I received the initial report from an investigator who examined the wreckage. He feels the anchor rode may have been set too steep, and the anchor pulled loose when the winds picked up overnight.

"Not leaving enough slack in the anchor line is a common mistake with pleasure boat crews," Abel offered. "They tend to think the shallow water is all one depth, and I've seen where a boat comes loose and rides the swells to deeper water."

"The inspector said that's exactly what happened, Grandfather, but then the anchor snagged on a reef and the jagged rocks split a board in the hull. The letter said there was little damage; just enough to flood the starboard bow below the staterooms where the Wadsworths were sleeping. The winds increased throughout the night and a heavy gust turned the vessel onto the flooded side. The five crew members survived because they'd slept on deck. They tried to save the Wadsworths, but the sloop flipped into deeper water, eliminating their escape from above or below." He sighed again as the imagery of the family's panic in their fruitless situation overwhelmed him. When he looked at his father he saw the same look of misery.

Ben had retaken his seat during the story and leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees. "I'm sure that Frank and Marian faced their fate with the same strength they used in life." He yawned unexpectedly and loudly, before laughing at himself. "I guess the long day is catching up to me."

Adam laughed too after he and Abel yawned in reaction to his Ben. He stood and announced. "I better go rescue my brothers. Those children of mine will keep them telling stories until midnight if I don't put a stop to it." He winked over his shoulder at his father. "And since you two look like you need to turn in, I'll send them over here to tuck you in next."

He shook Abel's hand in parting and gave a silent head nod for his father to accompany him outside. They stood on the sidewalk as he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. "I know that Frank thought he and Frankie were like you and me. But they weren't in a most important way. Frankie was so worried about failing to become his father's son that he forgot to make a life for himself. At least they finally talked things through, and Frank could assure Frankie that the thing he wanted most was for his son to be happy. I said earlier that it was hard to tell you I was leaving, but only because I knew I'd miss you as much as you would miss me. I always knew that you'd support me no matter what I decided to do."

***  
Ben had gone back and asked Melinda to meet Adam in the yard so they could head to their house together.

She saw Adam sitting on the bench between the two houses when she exited, and she hurried to sit next to him; slipping her hand into his. "What did you three talk about?"

"I told him about Frankie's troubles with the business, and the plans he and Frank were making when this happened. Pa and Frank were a lot alike, but I'm glad my father knew that the strongest parents let their children find their own way, even when it diverges from theirs."

The pair looked toward their house when they heard a barrage of laughter and giggles coming from the open, second-story window. Adam shook off his thoughts and laughed too. "Sounds like all hands are still on deck up there."

Melinda stood and grabbed his hand to pull him up. "I don't suppose Jillian can control your brothers and our children when they're working together to delay bedtime."

Adam and Melinda snuck into the house, and shrugged at one other as they observed the mess of utensils scattered on the kitchen table. They were silent as they ascended the steps. He remained outside the open door to the nursery while she tiptoed to their room to grab her hand-mirror.

Adam held the device in the doorway at an angle where they could get a view inside and he almost dropped it as he stifled his laughter at what they saw in the reflection. Their children were jumping on Elizabeth's bed as they cheered their favorite uncles on in a fencing match—using wooden spoons as epees. "Well at least this explains the mess in the kitchen," he whispered.

Joe was telling the story of the time that Hoss had been challenged to a duel by a man who'd been so good with a blade that he'd been able to slice the buttons off his brother's shirt without damaging the fabric beneath. Hoss countered that he was better now "Cuz he'd practiced some" since then.

Adam nearly laughed out loud when Hoss yelled at Joe, "Hold still, dangit. How'm I supposed to get at ya if you keep movin' so fast." The duel ended with a loud thud, probably indicating that Hoss had tripped during a lunge.

Melinda and Adam knew they were eavesdropping, but continued to listen without shame, imagining the actions that corresponded to the words.

"Yer parents will be comin' home shortly and they won't be happy if you two sprouts are still up." Hoss addressed the children in a serious tone between grunts as he got himself upright.

"But we need one more story," AJ whined while his sister's bouncing made the springs on her bed squeal at the same high pitch she was using to agree with her brother's indignation.

Adam nudged Melinda a little further down the hall as he heard his brothers approach the door.

Joe lowered his voice. "How are we gonna end this, Hoss? We've told them at least 20 stories, and they're still wide awake. It's after nine already."

"We just gotta be firm," Hoss replied. They moved away from the door and Hoss directed his next comment to the two bed-jumpers. "We done told as many stories as we're gonna. We gotta save some for the rest of the nights we'll be here. So I'm gonna ask you to get into your own beds and we'll tuck you in." When there was no action, he added, "Now!"

Hoss's demand was met with further protest, and Adam could envision the pout on Lizzy's face and the petulant set of AJ's lips. He knew they were over-tired and keyed up by their uncles' performances…and that it was time to get things under control. He winked at Melinda and then stepped into the doorway. As he suspected, Hoss and Joe's backs were toward him, but his youngsters could see his stance, the look on his face, and his finger pointing at their beds. Their eyes grew large and round as the jumping came to an instant halt and they dove under the covers of their respective cots.

Hoss nudged Joe's shoulder. "See, I told ya all we had to do was be firm." But both uncles turned toward the door after Lizzy peeked out from under her blanket and pointed toward the reason for her sudden cooperation.

"I see that look still strikes the fear of God into all who receive it," Joe laughed.

"You'd better believe it. And," he paused as Melinda joined him in walking toward their children, "I think these…sprouts…need to apologize to their uncles for not listening."

Melinda continued. "I know you are having a special, wonderful night, but you two forgot that your uncles were in charge. Now, I'd like to hear those apologies and then say goodnight."

Elizabeth slipped out of bed and ran to Joe, jumping up to have him hold her. She took his face in her hands and said, "I don't _think_ I like you anymore, Uncle Joe. I _do_ like you, very, very much. I'm sorry I didn't listen." She waited while AJ gave his apologies to Hoss, and then they switched uncles.

"Why don't you two head downstairs, and put these away." Adam handed over the spoons he'd grabbed from the dresser. "Then find some glasses. Pa and Abel are already turning in, but we'll have quick drink to settle your nerves before we call it a night." Once his brothers were out of the room, he sat on the edge of his daughter's bed while Melinda did the same on AJ's. "It seems you two had a good day."

"I like how Uncle Hoss knows so much about animals." AJ sat up to hug his mother. "He's the smartest man I ever knew."

Adam's eyes widened just a bit with the compliment to his middle brother. He brought Elizabeth to his lap. "And what about you? Do you think your uncle Hoss is the smartest man ever?"

The little girl shook her head. "He's nice, but you're the smartest man, Daddy. Uncle Joe is nice and tells funny stories…about you."

He squeezed Lizzy tightly as he grimaced with the thought of the some of the stories his brother might have told. "Goodnight my angel." He tucked her under the covers again and kissed her head before exchanging places with Melinda and saying goodnight to his son. "I'm glad you like your Uncle Hoss. He's a man who's worthy of your admiration." After listening to their children's prayers, they did another round of hugs and kisses, and bid Jillian goodnight before heading downstairs.

"You two look played out," Melinda teased as she completed the last step into the parlor. "Certainly two small children couldn't take more out of you than a herd of cattle."

"You'd think that'd be true," Joe answered. "But it's easier to lasso steers than it is to convince a little one of something."

"Yup," Adam laughed. "I've tried lassoing them, and it just makes them laugh harder."

The "uncles" talked for a while about the train trip and the clothes they'd ordered earlier while everyone sipped on scotch or brandy until their eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

The Boston Cartwrights had remodeled their home a few years ago, even adding a few feet of space at the back, but the house itself was only a little larger than Abel's. It was big enough for them, but with Jillian living there too, there were no spare rooms for company. Adam and Melinda had decided it would be simplest to have AJ sleep in the nursery with his sister, and let their uncles share AJ's room. A day bed in the little boy's room allowed the two men to sleep comfortably in their own space. Ben was staying with Abel since they'd have more to talk about.

Melinda awoke around midnight and ran her hand across the empty space next to her, instinctively knowing that Adam wasn't there. Slipping into her robe, she walked to the window and checked to make sure he wasn't in the garden again. Not seeing him there, she made an adjustment to her clothing and headed down to where she knew she'd find him.

Adam looked up as his wife entered his office. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I couldn't sleep."

"I know, Adam. You haven't slept much since this all started. I'm worried for you."

He sat back and sighed deeply. "It's not that I think about what happened to them, although there have been a few nightmares about that. It's more that I want this all to run smoothly: both the memorial service and the transition. Since I was asked to plan the service, I have the uneasy feeling that Frank didn't make bequests beyond Frankie and Amelia…and there is no designated heir. It'll be a free-for-all if that's true, and I don't want their memory tainted by a lengthy, ugly legal brawl."

She walked behind his chair and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head atop his. "You've got the service planned perfectly, and there's not much you can do about the rest. They'll have to fight it out. Your job is to keep the business running. The men from your crews and their families are depending on that."

"You're right." He looked back at her. "Didn't we start our day with this same conversation about how right you are?"

She turned his chair around to face her. "I think I might be right about something else. You need to relax and forget the world for a little while." She pulled his robe apart and ran her finger down his bare chest, stopping at the drawstring bow that held up the pajama pants he wore to bed. He'd always hated nightshirts and had slept with nothing on before they'd had children. That had all changed when unexpected bedroom intrusions became the norm, and this new fashion from England left his torso free of encumbering clothing while covering the necessities.

He took her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I should work a little longer."

"We haven't been intimate since this started, Adam. I haven't pushed you because I knew you needed time to work through the loss. But I need you, and I think you need me even more."

"But my brothers are upstairs, and Hoss might come down for a snack. He only ate a whole chicken tonight. He'll be hungry soon." He winked to take the sting from his reluctance.

Melinda walked to the door and locked it before returning to kneel in front of him. "We've learned to be quiet because of having a nanny and children across the hall. You and I have made love nearly every day of our marriage and you're wound so tightly right now that you need a release before you spring apart."

He moved his head side-to-side, even as he let her untie the string at his waist and set his body blazing with her gentle touch. "But…"

"But nothing," she said quietly. "I saw you outside grieving on your own. You aren't making love to me because it's hard for you to let another person see what you're going through. Yet you've allowed me to see the darkness of your sorrow before, so don't hold back this time."

He groaned softly as she stroked his thighs and then moved slowly back to increase his arousal. He stood and lifted her to him, carrying her to the couch where he laid her down tenderly, and quickly disrobed. A pull on her sash revealed that she'd come downstairs with this in mind, and he began breathing heavily as he moved atop her and kissed her with the passion he'd been holding back along with his pain. He placed kisses in all the secret places that excited her, and blew a soft, warm breath across the moisture his lips left behind. He continued caressing and kissing her until she pulled him toward her with urgency. He moved gently at first and then let his need surge.

Melinda's hair had fallen over her face and he brushed it aside as he smiled down at her. "Thank you," he whispered. "It seems you were right again."

Her satisfied look turned to one of disappointment as he stood and redressed quickly before tugging her robe back into place around her, and tying it shut. _So that's it_ she thought with a grain of disappointment grinding in her emotions like a grain of sand in a shoe. _He's going to walk me to the door and send me away so he can continue to work_. She was so deep in thought that she yipped in surprise when he lifted her from the sofa and carried her to the door. She was still wondering if he would deposit her outside after he got the key turned and opened the door, but she began to smile, and kissed his cheek when the trip continued up the steps and into their room.

He made love to her again, this time letting the passion build slowly. He remained quiet when they finished, and Melinda turned onto her side to stroke his cheek as she'd always done to show her love. She drew her hand back and brought her fingertip to her tongue to confirm the saltiness of his tears. His armor had yielded, and she gathered him to her, stroking his hair and whispering of her love for him and the family they had both lost. He let his grief flow silently until he drifted to sleep in her arms.

 **End, Part 1.** Please continue to Part 2 see the Cartwrights working together as they always do, even if it's not on the Ponderosa!

*The Assomption sloop was built in Cherbourg (Cotentin, Normandy region, France) belonging to an owner of this city, and was wrecked on the coast of Guernsey (Channel Islands, UK) on September25, 1872.

**Matthew 25:14-22

***In other stories in the One Step Close series, I've had Adam travel in a private Pullman car that the Wadsworths had purchased. I picture it as similar to the car Agents West and Gordon used in the _Wild Wild West_ series.

4*The following excerpt is taken from an article about Victorian funeral Etiquette. After describing the dark, drab satin and crape dresses that women had to wear for varying periods of time following a death, it says: _Men had it easy – they simply wore their usual dark suits along with black gloves, hatbands and cravats._ This was all set out in books such as _The Queen and Cassell Manual._ The memorial service for the Wadsworth was to be far more formal because of Frank's position in society.

5* This set of toys was a gift to AJ when Hoss and Ben ventured to Boston in the story of this series called, _One Step Closer – From Two to Three,_ _A Family_. In that story, Hoss saves AJ from drowning when they both end up in the river after the child is kidnapped by a crazy woman. AJ later reveals to his father and mother that his "grandma in the water" pushed him toward Hoss to save him. They're able to figure out that he was speaking of Adam's mother, Elizabeth. In this story, there will be references to Adam's children speaking to Grandma Elizabeth, and that follows the same vein.

6* Psalm 30:11

7* The Boston Cartwrights faced several threats from a family name Casteletti in three of the stories in this series. Frank and Marian along with Ben, and later, Ben and Hoss worked together to help Adam and Melinda. You can read the entire saga in the following stories: Once Step Closer – Til Death Do Us Part; One Step Closer – Two Hearts Broken; One Step Closer – From Two to Three, A Family.


	2. One Step Closer - Turns in Fate Part 2

**Seven – Monday, October 14, 1872**

Adam felt like a new man as he got ready for work on Monday morning. He'd spent most of weekend with his family, often talking about their days on the ranch together—much to the enjoyment of his wife and children. Sam and Miranda Greene had joined them the previous day for church and then they'd rented a large carriage and gone out to the country for a picnic where they'd continued to reminisce about the Ponderosa and the Wadsworths.

Melinda had told him before that pain didn't lessen when it was shared, but that it became more bearable. He'd experienced what she'd meant by that as he'd shared his memories, instead of gritting his teeth while trying to maintain his veneer of impenetrability.

He pulled from his thoughts to concentrate on the task at hand: shaving his considerable endowment of facial hair. "I should just grow a beard and look like a hermit," he murmured as he stretched his left cheek into a flat surface to meet the blade. Yet such a decision wasn't his to make alone. His daughter loved to pat his clean-shaven cheeks. If the child had her way he would shave before he put her to bed as well so his bristly growth didn't give her a "whisker rub."

With his beard in check for another day, he donned a clean white shirt, and drew a tie under the collar while leaving the ends of fabric hanging loose. He smiled again as he thought back over the last two days. He'd laughed so hard at times, his sides had hurt. But during one story that Sam had told about his experience with Frank, he'd been reminded of his own experience with the remarkable man, and a tear had rolled down his cheek.

Elizabeth had been sitting on his lap during the story, and her small finger had felt like velvet when she'd touched the moisture and brought it to her chest, where she'd cupped her other hand around it and whispered that she'd keep his tear in _her_ heart, so that it wouldn't hurt his heart anymore.

He thought she'd been too young to remember him saying that to her. It had come after she'd lost a favorite toy. Their search had been fruitless and when he'd told her not to cry, she'd responded that her heart hurt so bad she couldn't stop them. He'd wiped away her tears and said he'd keep them in his heart, so hers would feel better.

Elizabeth's remembrance had lifted a veil to allow him to see the blessings he'd always been given along with the losses he'd endured. It focused him again and he was ready now to face this week of goodbyes.

He trotted down the steps, greeting Hoss, Little Joe and his father who were already at the table. They planned to leave together for their work assignments as soon as they finished breakfast. He saw the mail sitting by his plate so he flipped through that before speaking. "I've been waiting for responses from the Wadsworth family as to which of them can accompany me to the crew lunches on Friday. But since no one seems inclined to do so, the Cartwrights will have the honor."

"I'm a Cartwright, Daddy. Can I come too?" his daughter asked, as she wiped her milk mustache from her upper lip.

He had thought about taking Lizzy with them, but he also knew her shyness would make for a very unnerving day. "It's dangerous at the docks, sweetheart, and you don't like the smell of fish, so I think you'll be best staying with Jillian and Grandma Sadie."

She nodded as her pout turned to a smile. "Fish are stinky. We'll play dolls."

Melinda came in from the kitchen during his announcement. "Might someone from Frank's family still accept at the service?"

"I hope so." He grinned knowingly. "It might be a clue as to who's inheriting." He took her hand. "I'm hoping you can be with us."

"I'll be proud to accompany you but I have to leave around one. I have a mid-afternoon meeting with a new author. I'd try to rearrange things, but she'll only be in Boston on Friday.

Adam and the Nevada Cartwrights left the house when the Wadsworth coach arrived. He'd already taken each of them to their sites on Saturday, describing the project; how they would best fit in, and what to watch for.

Ben was the first to speak once they were settled in the coach. "That was a wonderful weekend, and I'm looking forward to today. Tackling something different than what you're comfortable doing keeps your brain working."

"I'm just hoping the men don't resent my being there and toss me into the river," Joe said as he fired a sour look towards his older brother.

"They'll appreciate an extra set of hands." Adam smiled devilishly. "Yet, I wouldn't be surprised if they end up tossing you in the water at some point. Even I tried to drown you at least once."

Adam's back-handed reassurance did little to appease Joe's uncertainty, and he sent him an apprehensive scowl. Hoss gave his younger brother's shoulder a shove. "I worked with these men the last time I was here, and they's good people, Joe. It's like Adam says; crews always like an extra hand, so just keep asking what you can do." He couldn't keep from smiling as he added, "But maybe Jimmy can go back to the house after droppin' us off and pick up a dry set of clothes…just in case."

The coach passed a cemetery, prompting Ben to ask. "We've talked about the memorial service for the Wadsworth, but I just realized you've said nothing about a funeral. Will that come later when the bodies arrive in Boston?"

Adam shook his head. "There's a Wadsworth family plot in London as well as one in Boston, and with them being in England so much, Frank had left orders to be buried where he was when he died. There was already a funeral in London for Marian, Frank and Frankie. Of course there weren't many people in attendance except for their former house staff and some business associates."

"What about Frankie's sister?" Hoss inquired.

"Amelia and her husband were buried at Cherbourg with his family. I didn't know Amelia well. She was five years older than Frankie and me, and considered herself too sophisticated to spend any time with 'college boys'." He laughed at the memory. "She met a young Frenchman in New York, and after a long-distance courtship, they married the summer I went back to Nevada." He looked out the window as the coach slowed. "All right, Pa, we're here."

He introduced his father to the crew and engineers who were working on the site; secure that his father's business savvy would pick up on any hesitation, excessive questioning or back-tracking that might indicate the owners were being courted by other firms or hearing whispers of Wadsworth's inability to complete the project. His father would be a solid presence to dispel such speculation.

Little Joe was dropped at a site on a Mystic River plot. The small lot was being cleared for a dock and building that would serve as a repair shop for the river boats and small vessels that helped the larger ships maneuver in the harbor. The size of the property did not reflect the price tag on the project, and losing it would cut profits dramatically.

Adam had wondered about Hoss's choice of assignment since it was the same place his brother and AJ had almost drowned four years ago. But the big man had declared his desire to face his demons. The construction included new docks on the river's edge; a massive warehouse to hold the products they off-loaded, and street-side loading docks to get the products on their way to their final destinations. The project was so large that Adam had to combine four crews to get it done. It was one of the few times in the last several years that Wadsworth had only three sites in progress at one time.

"This one's got the most potential to be targeted, Hoss," he warned as they approached the site office. "It would be a real coup if another company could convince the owners to abandon us, especially now when we're nearly done with the site preparation. But I don't think they'd go after the owners. They'll try to shrink the crew to stall the work instead. When we can't make our deadlines, they'd make overtures to the people in charge. I've heard a few comments from the men so far, but I need someone here to actually experience what's going on."

After introductions, the two brothers and the site engineers talked about the safety features that had been added to prevent accidents while men did the dangerous work along the river docks. Adam had already said his goodbyes and was on his way, when he returned and patted his brother's back. "Just be careful out on those docks. Joe's crew might toss him in the river, but I don't want you falling in again."

With his family in place, Adam directed Jimmy to Melinda's publishing company. The two of them were heading to the Harvard Campus to check on preparations for the memorial service. Their first destination was First Parish Unitarian Church9. The large meeting hall had hosted Harvard graduation ceremonies for nearly 40 years—including Frank's and then Adam and Frankie's. It had seemed the perfect place to remember the man who'd stayed so connected to the Harvard community.

The event staff was waiting when they arrived and they all walked down the long aisle going over the seating arrangements and placement of flowers. With that settled, he and Melinda walked the short distance across the yard to the new Memorial Hall10, a building funded by alumni, including a goodly sum from Frank Wadsworth. Parts of the building were still under construction, but the large main hall was complete, and it was large enough to hold the expected crowd for the luncheon following the service. Chef Sanzian11, the head chef at the Parker House hotel, and creator of the signature desert, the Boston Cream Pie, was waiting there for them with the buffet menu and linen samples. It would prove a herculean effort to pull this off for so many at one time in a place where no food could be prepared on site, but Chef Sanzian had promised to keep the fare simple while still maintaining taste and quality.

The chef assured Adam in his French-Armenian-English mix of accents, "All is in place M'seur and Madame Cartwright. The Wadsworth family was a patron of several fine dining establishments and they are each showing their gratitude by supplying equipment and servers for the event. My kitchen staff and I will begin preparations before dawn. Everything will be here ready when the guests arrive."

"Thank you, Chef. We couldn't do this without your help," Adam said as he shook the man's hand. "There's one last thing we need to check on." He chuckled before continuing. "Frank was always the first to buy a round of his favorite 'poison', so what will you have available?"

"There will be beverages to quaff the thirstiest of the teetotalers, and enough liquor to float a ship," Sanzian said as he laughed and pointed toward the end of the room. "Those are crates of glasses and bottles around that bar. There's an assortment of wines, and plenty of Irish whiskey, brandy and Frank's favorite scotch." He looked around the room and indicated a group of men carrying tables and chairs into the hall. "Everything will be set up by Wednesday, so all we need do on Thursday is bring the food." He grinned at the couple. "There will be plenty of tenders to keep the liquor flowing, the serving trays loaded, and the lines moving."

Adam pulled a bank draft from his pocket. "I can write this for your estimated costs. We'll make adjustments once you have the final invoice."

"There is no need," the chef replied with a wave of his hand. "The hotel knows that your reputation is as sterling as the man we will honor."

Adam and Melinda's final stop took them to see, Charles Eliot11, the current president of Harvard. Eliot was in his early forties, and the youngest man ever elected to that office. He had close ties to the Wadsworths, since Frank had been in charge of the board of alumni that had selected him. Charles had been the first president chosen after a revamp of the hiring process, and Frank had fought to get Eliot elected because of the young man's crusade to upgrade the Harvard science curriculum and better prepare graduates for careers.

Adam had gotten to know the new chancellor when he'd been asked to lead a panel focused on updating the engineering program to reflect the rapid changes in the field. The head man had also asked Adam to teach a portion of a class each semester to explain the unique mathematics involved in harbor and water projects. The growth in industrialization had necessitated changes in the vessels that carried goods, and that had led to the need for new docks and harbors to service them and handle the products they carried. But the need had soon collided with a massive roadblock when business owners couldn't find engineers familiar with the design and construction of the sites along the bay and rivers. Because of his work on the interior harbor in England, and the Sacramento Embarcadero, Adam Cartwright was considered the expert in this field, and this expertise was the reason he had made Wadsworth an economic powerhouse in less than four years. Nearly all new harbor construction along the Mystic and St. Charles was being done by Wadsworth crews, or had been designed and engineered by Adam. He was a sole commodity in a sea of need. His fee was high, but no one complained. Prospective clients only had to tour the sites where Wadsworth was building to see they were far ahead of the competition and worth every penny.

Charles rose as Adam and Melinda were escorted into the room and greeted both Cartwrights before directing their attention to another man seated in an overstuffed chair near the desk. "Reverend Peabody12* is here, so we can go over our plans without delay."

"Reverend Peabody." Adam acknowledged the clergyman with a respectful nod and hand shake. "I am grateful that you will be handling the service. I know that you and Frank had many deep conversations."

"And arguments," the reverend interjected with a chuckle.

Melinda moved forward to shake hands with both men, and was advised to call Reverend Peabody, Andrew. "I second my husband's thanks, Andrew." She turned to Charles. "We're also grateful that you will be doing the introduction of those offering their testimonials."

Adam continued his wife's thought. "Melinda and I were honored to put together the plans for this event, but I didn't want to be the face of it, so again, thank you both for your leadership."

Charles nodded. "I did think it odd that the relatives weren't initiating the memorial, yet knowing your character, Adam, I can see that you would give the family your best. I can't say that I knew Frank or Marian's extended family, and when I heard the details of the tragedy, I had worried they wouldn't be honored as they should be." He became thoughtful. "Has an heir been named?"

"It remains a mystery, and my only concern is to ensure a wonderful sendoff." He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. "These are the speakers." He smiled at both men. "And like the instructions given to those speaking at a Harvard graduation, I've asked that they limit themselves to two minutes of reminiscing. To help with that, I suggested they relate one story of Frank or the family that left its mark on their lives. Many sent back their idea along with their acceptance. I assure you there will be tears shed at some of the stories, but even more will bring smiles and laughter."

"Frank would be pleased by that," Andrew said with spirit. "I can hear him laughing in my mind. He and Marian both knew the meaning of joy." The pastor looked pointedly at Adam. "You should know that he talked often of you and your family. I saw Frank and Marian just before they left on this last trip, and they seemed content. He said the business here was in such good hands that he and his son were free to try new enterprises that would challenge them." He looked down at his hands and sighed. "I believe in God's will, but I can't always see how it fits into tragedies like this."

 **Eight – Monday, October 14, 1872, 5 PM**

Hoss stuck his head into the coach as he climbed aboard. He bumped his shoulder on the entrance as he pushed his large frame inside, and grumbled. "I sure don't like these coaches. They ain't never got enough headroom or door space for a guy my size."

Little Joe laughed. "There's nothing big enough for a guy your size, Hoss. You'd be best sticking to horseback and buckboards."

"Ain't that the pure truth," he grumbled further as he rubbed his shoulder. "Oh, hi, Pa. I didn't even notice you was in the corner." He gave the interior a good looking over once he was seated. "We gonna go pick up Adam now?"

"Jimmy said Adam will have to meet us at the house later." Ben looked from Hoss to Joe. "You two don't look any the worse for wear. How'd your day go?"

"It always galls me to admit this, but Adam was right," Joe offered immediately. "Things got off to a good start. The crew liked having me, especially once they figured out I was strong, even though I didn't look it." He laughed. "I think they gave me everything heavy they could find to do, just to see if I'd collapse. Those men have no idea how hard a rancher works."

"So your brother was right about you being accepted…or is there more to it?"

"We were making good progress moving rocks, measuring out and marking for where they'll start digging the foundation, when this guy walks over and starts talking with the men who were a little further away from me. I made sure I pushed my wheelbarrow that way, and picked up enough to hear that he was asking the men if they were getting paid on time, and saying that he'd heard Wadsworth didn't have the money to keep running."

"What'd ya do?" Hoss asked with interest.

"I walked him off a piece, and showed him the "No Trespassing" signs on the edges of the property. I explained that these were meant for his safety, and then…," He grinned wickedly, "I said that I carried a pistol in my lunch box and would escort him to the police station at the end of it if he showed up again. I could tell by his face that he wasn't sure that I wouldn't use the pistol _before_ taking him in, and he left in a hurry. I don't think he'll be back."

Ben was smiling as he asked, "Did the men see him leave?"

"They did. And they applauded. They're pretty sure Wadsworth Engineering will stay strong." Joe pursed his lips and then gave his family a lopsided smile. "Adam does things different than me. I like to be one of the guys, and work harder than anyone to earn their respect for those times when I have to give orders. I can't say my oldest brother doesn't work hard just like me, but he doesn't try to be one of them. Yet they respect him even more. I'm thinking if you'd look up 'honest' in the dictionary, you'd find Adam's name there. Those men are worried about the future, but they trust that if anyone can get them through this, it's Adam."

"He does inspire confidence," Ben agreed.

"I always teased him about being granite-hard, and wondered why he couldn't show his feelings the way I did, but I see now that his steadiness makes others steady too." Joe laughed. "But don't tell him that, 'cause I'll deny I said it."

Hoss nodded. "I got the same feeling from my crew. They's powerful sad over Frank and Marian's death. Yet, they've had Adam leadin' them long enough to trust what he says." He grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his sweaty forehead before continuing. "My site is a lot bigger'n Joe's, and they got a fence around it to keep people from comin' in. I can testify to how dangerous it is with the fast current and tide flow in that part of the river, and we're pullin' all that rotting timber out from the old docks walls, so there can't be no distractions. Adam has the men working on those wobbly beams wearing a sort of harness attached to a rope that's tied to a post on shore. If they lose their footing and fall in the water, a spotter pulls them back to safety."

"That makes a lot of sense," Joe commented with an approving nod. "Why is it still so dangerous?"

"Those sidewalls are so unsteady that pullin' out one a them could bring the rest of them down too. Nothing could help if someone got pinned under that mess."

"Did anyone come onto the site? The question was from Ben.

"Nope, but there were men standin' outside the fence at lunch and the end of the day. Danny from the crew told me the same guys have been there a couple other times. They latch onto the crew when they leave for the night, talkin' about how another firm is hirin' good men like them, and how they should leave Wadsworth before it goes under."

Joe's face scrunched. "They aren't really trespassing, so how'd you deal with it?"

"I went out first and shooed them away. I used my size to loom over them puny Easterners, explaining that we don't cotton to people who spread lies about our company. I'll ask Adam if he'd wanna get the police over there to clear them away before the men go home."

Ben closed one eye as he raised his cheek in thought. "Frank used to have a security team, but Adam hasn't mentioned them. I wonder if it was disbanded once Frank and Marian were away so much. We'll ask about it tonight."

Hoss nodded. "Did anything happen by you, Pa?"

"No one came by, but when the owners stopped to check on the project today they gave me a handful of business cards they've received from competing firms. Some of them were hand-delivered along with a recital of the possible dangers of staying with Wadsworth, and others were enclosed in letters implying the same message of doom." Ben sighed deeply. "I'll give the cards to Adam and he can decide whether to address them. The owners respect Adam enough to stay with him, but I can understand some concern. They won't trust a fill-in if the heir replaces Adam, and they will claim a breach of contract if it happens."

"Maybe we shouldn't tell him nothin' about what happened today," Hoss proposed. "We can keep chasing people away and they might give up long enough for things to get sorted out."

Ben's head moved side-to-side. "I doubt any of our stories will be a surprise. Most of what's going on is pretty standard. They're getting more aggressive now because Wadsworth has been without an owner for a couple of weeks now. It could get even nastier if the situation goes on for a while." He grinned slyly at his sons. "I'd bet Frank employed the same sorts of tactics when other companies had uncertain times. Even we make inquiries and offers when we hear about troubles at other ranches, and we speak to good men about coming to the Ponderosa. It's business. We don't force or threaten anyone. We don't lie or exaggerate the problems either. It's a matter of keeping our ears and eyes open to opportunities without becoming scoundrels."

Adam saw his brothers in the yard giving horseback rides to his two laughing children when he arrived home. He snuck inside without being seen and greeted his wife with a kiss; asking about the rest of her day, and then telling her about a few more responses he'd received from the memorial service speakers. "I hope we'll be remembered as fondly one day as Frank and Marian. I already know much of what I'm hearing from others, but I am still astounded at the depths of their kindness. The house staff at the estate sent one of the most memorable of the lot. I'll have that one read since they are uneasy about speaking publicly."

"You could recognize them at the service, and have someone else read their note," She suggested as she stood holding his hands.

He kissed her softly and pulled her tightly to him. "How did I ever end up with such a smart woman who still loves me even after realizing I'm not her equal?"

Melinda wrapped her arms tightly around him, returning his kiss. "I thank God constantly for that day in Sacramento when our lives began the long road back to each other. Yet, I suppose those roads were running parallel all along. They just needed a connecting point.

Adam and Melinda had limited their children's bedtime stories to one apiece from each uncle Hoss after the first night's fiasco, so they were back in twenty minutes.

"So…what happened today?" Adam asked as they settled in the parlor with cigars and brandy. Abel and Sadie had returned home after dinner when the older couple had proclaimed they shared the same bedtime as their great-grandchildren. The three Cartwrights shared their experiences as Adam asked a few clarifying questions and concluded, "The crews had mentioned that strangers were lurking around the sites. I'm thankful you were there to address it before it got nasty. You did a good job chasing them away today, but I'd suspect others will try the same tactics until this thing is settled. The good news is that I heard from the Bill Murdoch; he'll read the will two weeks from today."

"That's good." Ben offered enthusiastically.

"Can you stay until then, Pa?"

"We'll stay as long as you need us." Ben's vow was uttered in a strong tone conveying far more emotion than his words.

"If you're all up to it, you can do the same thing tomorrow." Adam became thoughtful. "I almost forgot. Your suits are ready for a fitting, so you can see Emilio first. I'd expect the attacks to focus more on the office now. If they can't get the crews to defect, they'll come after the men in charge."

Hoss asked, "Should I get the police to shoo them men away?"

"I forgot you'd asked about that," Adam admitted, blushing. "Wadsworth still has the security team. They're watching the estate now, but I'll send word for a few of them to come around each site tomorrow, and you can give them a report of what to look for." He gave an appreciative nod to each of his family. "You all did a great job today. It speaks well of the firm that others are so rabid for our crumbs, but…." His thoughts went silent as his smile was replaced by a look of melancholy. He could "say" that he was fine with whatever happened in two weeks, but deep inside he knew the loss of the firm to incompetent leadership would eat away at his soul. His thoughts swirled as he imagined what he would do if this became the case. He knew for sure that he couldn't stay in Boston and watch the decimation of what Frank had started, and he had grown.

When he looked back up at those in the room, his face had returned to granite-like calmness and he suggested they might play a few rounds of Speculation13 to end the evening.

The male Cartwrights declared defeat an hour later when Melinda held most of the chips. "I sure don't ever wanna play poker with you, sister-in-law," Hoss declared, stretching as he got to his feet. "I thought my older brother was the best card player I knew, but you got him beat!"

"I think this game is a matter of luck. And I won this time because you didn't expect a woman to be sneaky." Melinda kissed Ben goodnight before he headed over to Abel's, and shooed Hoss and Joe upstairs, promising she'd straighten the mess on the table before turning in. After the house quieted and things were orderly, she winked at her husband and led him to his office, locking the door behind them. "How about we play a little strip poker? I bet I'll have you outta them duds in no time, and then I'll have my way with you."

Adam grinned like a schoolboy and raised his hands in surrender. "I concede defeat. You may do as you please." He was chuckling quietly as she began undoing his buttons and belt buckle, before sliding his shirt from his shoulders and his trousers to the floor.

"If you sit down, my love, I'll help you get those boots off so you don't fall over trying to disentangle them from your pants as you've been known to do when you're in a hurry."

"Brilliant idea," he whispered into her hair as he pulled her near and let his body feel the warmth grow with her near. "I think I do recall a few bruises from untimely tumbles."

They pleasured one another as their passion and desire grew. Adam had found since having children that controlling the volume of his surging excitement, using whispers of love and devotion instead, made the ending even more explosive and sweet. Melinda had expressed the same thought to him, suggesting that using their minds to acknowledge one another instead of letting their physical hunger have sole rein of the act, made the experience deeper—felt in mind and body. Whatever the reason, their current lovemaking was far more powerful that what they'd initially experienced…and that had been enough to raise the roof a few feet. _This_ time it left them breathless and unwilling to break the connection.

He finally moved next to her side on the wide couch, and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tightly against him. "This was a nice evening with a wonderful conclusion." When Melinda began to shiver, he suggested, "We should head upstairs. I just wish we didn't have to get dressed again."

She sat up on the edge of the couch and reached underneath, extracting a pile of folded fabric. "We don't have to dress, exactly. I brought our night things down as soon as I got home and stashed them."

 **Eight – Thursday, October 17, 1872**

There had been other unspeakably sad days in Adam's life. As a child, he'd watched both Inger and Marie die in his father's arms. Those deaths had left their mark on his heart, and helped to solidify the granite exterior he'd adopted when facing future tragedies and disappointments. He tried now to banish those shadows from his mind as he fastened the black cravat under his pristinely white shirt collar and then shrugged into his waistcoat. The sequence of the day's events scrolled through his consciousness as he folded his coat over his arm and headed from the room.

He'd planned his day carefully, and had already gone to see his children and spent some time with them to avoid any mishaps with jelly transferring from their sticky cheeks to his funeral attire. But he couldn't miss the fact that his hand was trembling when he grasped the stair rail, making him acknowledge that a person's body could betray one's surety. He took a deep breath to settle his nervousness, and reminded himself that this part of the journey would be complete by evening.

He stopped half-way down the steps and took in the sight below. Melinda, wearing a high-necked, black crepe dress with a dark shawl, hat and a black veil, was standing next to his father and brothers, who looked like wealthy businessmen in their dark gray suits. "Don't you all look remarkable," he said, flashing a smile of admiration. "Maybe you three should give up ranching and get jobs in the city."

Hoss ran his finger along the inside of his shirt collar and groaned. "I'll wear this fer you, brother, but I couldn't do it on a regular basis."

"Me either," Joe agreed. "Although I'm sure we'd create quite the stir if we went into Virginia City dressed like this."

"The best kind of stir, I'd think." Melinda slipped on her black gloves and took Adam's arm. "All you'll have to do is use a more colorful vest and a less somber tie, and you'll have the ladies lined up for a mile waiting to dance with you at the next shindig."

Abel was waiting by the coach when the Cartwrights exited, and complimented the family's appearance as well. He pulled Adam aside as the others boarded. "I wish I could go with you today, but I fear I'd be a hindrance. Please know that Sadie and I send our thoughts and condolences with you."

Adam shook his grandfather's hand. "The offer still stands for Jimmy to come back and get you for the luncheon. I know it would be too long a day if you came to the service, but I'd love to have you and Sadie there later."

The older man gave a dismissive wave as he chuckled. "I'll be much happier here helping with your children." His lips pinched as he sniffed loudly. "Those little ones have brought so much joy. I am thankful that I was given the time to know them." He gave his grandson's shoulder a shove. "You best be going."

The coach passed the harbor as Jimmy headed toward Cambridge, and Hoss pointed to a ship tied to an old dock away from the others. "That there's the one Abel took us to see yesterday, Adam. He said it was just like the clipper ship him and Pa used to sail when they was workin' together."

"I'm glad Abel could get you on board for a look around." Adam offered.

Melinda started to laugh. "When we went in to say goodnight to the children last night, AJ said it was a good thing that Uncle Hoss never wanted to be a sailor because he would have spent the whole time with splinters in his head."

"He had that right," Joe added. "Poor Hoss kept cracking his head on the timbers below deck, and I think he'd have overturned the ship if he'd gone up-top on the masts like Abel described."

"I know the feeling, Hoss," His father said with a wink. "I was taller than most of the men sailing with me and did hit my head until I figured out how to hunch." He grinned broadly. "It's also why I learned to navigate and control the ship. Officers got better quarters than deck hands." His face dropped to a concerned frown. "We haven't had much time alone since getting here, but I was wondering how you think Abel is doing, son. He seems to have slowed down."

"He has…." Adam looked towards his wife. "I'll let Melinda tell you what's going on, and we'll talk more about it before you leave, Pa." He gave each brother a quick nod. "I don't mean to seem rude, but I want to go over a few details before we arrive. Once this is over I promise I'll talk so much you'll wish I would stop." That said, he pulled a notebook from his inside coat pocket, and began scanning his lists of what needed to be done.

Melinda picked up where Adam had left off. "Abel won't talk about his health." She grinned. "But Sadie tells me everything. He's doing well enough for a man in his 80's."

"I suppose the years count up," Ben mused. "I notice he has to rest frequently."

"He's seeing Sam now, and my brother-in-law told Sadie that Abel is in no distress. He advocates exercise and resting when he's tired, and said that having us next door gives him so much to live for that he'll be fine for a while. Of course he's had two strokes already, so there are no guarantees. She glanced towards her husband and then back to Ben as she pursed her lips and shook her head just enough to get her message across to her father-in-law.

Adam was so absorbed that he didn't look up as Ben leaned toward Melinda, grasped his daughter-in-law's hand tightly, and whispered, "I know what you're thinking. Abel realizes Adam can't handle another loss right now. It's probably why he's being so cautious."

She laid her free hand atop Ben's and nodded. Another glance verified that her husband was still engrossed in his plans. She smiled at the others; her tone forcedly light as she said, "So tell me what Captain Stoddard said about Ben Cartwright, First Mate."

 **Nine – Thursday, October 17, 1872 – 10:40 AM**

The large church was humming with conversations as those assembled greeted old friends and talked business while waiting for the service to commence. Ben, Melinda, Hoss, and Joe had been seated toward the middle of the church behind the dignitaries and those who were scheduled to speak. Amanda and Sam Greene were behind them.

"That's William Gaston, the mayor of Boston," Melinda said quietly to the group as she nodded discreetly towards two men walking up the aisle. "The man with him is William Washburn, our governor."

"Do you and Adam know all these people?" Hoss asked he looked around the crowded sanctuary.

"Adam knows most of them through his work at Harvard or with the engineering firm. I've met many of them at social functions." She stopped talking abruptly and stood, motioning to a lone man making his way up the aisle, and began introductions when he came over. "Henry, I'd like to introduce you to Adam's family." The man shook hands with each of the Cartwrights as she continued. "This is Ben, Adam's father, and his brothers, Joe and Hoss." She turned to address her family. "Gentlemen, this is Henry Wadsworth-Longfellow. Henry is Frank's maternal cousin. He'll be speaking today."

Ben shook the poet's hand again. "It is a distinct honor to meet you. Adam has spoken fondly of your friendship."

"You have a fine son, Mr. Cartwright, and knowing him has been my pleasure as well. My cousin never ceased speaking of Adam from the time he first showed up at the house as a skinny Harvard freshman. And more recently, Frank was grateful to leave things in Adam's hands while he and Marian pursued other interests." An usher came by to alert the group that the ceremony was about to begin. Henry gave a final handshake to each Cartwright; kissed Melinda's cheek, and gave a wave of acknowledgment to Sam and Miranda. "It seems I must sit down. We will speak more at the luncheon."

"Why does that name sound so familiar?" Joe asked.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Perhaps if you'd read more than dime novels you recognize the man who's penned such classics as _Paul Revere's Ride_ and _the Song of Hiawatha_."

"Even I knew that," Hoss scoffed.

"Ah, that's why it sounded familiar." Jpe gave his brother an offended glance. "I figured he was another politician."

Melinda shushed her brothers-in law as Reverend Peabody entered the chancel and raised his arms in a call for silence. He motioned the group to rise and began, "I will begin this service of remembrance with a prayer of gathering."

With no true "funeral rites" to perform, the traditional "Service for the Dead" was limited to a few Bible readings and prayers. Reverend Peabody began his eulogy by noting that Frank and Marian not only believed, but demonstrated God's principles. "We will soon hear stories showing their generosity, kindness, and absolute loyalty to each other, their family, and this community." The minister knew of the many speakers to come, and kept his remarks to a minimum, concluding with his assessment of Frank Wadsworth, the scholar. "Frank had a questioning mind. It often seemed that he argued for argument's sake when it came to scriptures, but that wasn't it at all. This man had wealth and power, but he also wanted to understand the principles of faith and make them personal. Frank and Marian were remarkable people: people we should all seek to emulate."

Ben glanced at Melinda and smiled as the remarks came to a close. She took his hand and nodded as she dabbed a tear from her cheek.

Charles Eliot was the next to speak, recalling Frank's fierce loyalty to Harvard, and his desire that the school remain a beacon of education. He recalled Marian's tireless efforts on campus to help students and raise money for various projects. "One only had to mention a need and the Wadsworths saw to it in the best way possible. They leave a great emptiness in the Harvard family." Adam had asked Charles to acknowledge the Wadsworth house staff, and read their note. This he did before calling the next speaker forward.

Friends continued to present their memories while honoring their time limit. The recollections brought many laughs, while others stunned the crowd with unheard stories highlighting Frank and Marian's graciousness. It was clear that there was no part of Boston life the couple hadn't touched in some way. Even those who spoke of being "foes" in business could find nothing unbecoming to say about Frank. The snippets painted a picture of a fiercely competitive man, who was ultimately fair, generous, and admired by everyone he'd worked with. Marian was remembered for her kind and gentle spirit. She was described as a woman who pulled everyone she knew under the protection of her wing, and loved unquestionably.

Adam was the second-to-last to speak. He recalled finding another brother in Frankie when they'd been roommates, and then becoming part of the Wadsworth family. He spoke of his own father and how much he and Frank were alike in demanding the highest and best from others because they demanded the same of themselves. "The thing Frank had learned was that he could demand perfection while still understanding that life was a process, and the best lessons came when things seemed the hardest. He allowed for mistakes, but expected that they not happen again." He chuckled. "I don't think Frank slept much, although he napped at the office every day. You could come to him at any hour and be welcomed and heard." He bit his lip to control his emotions, but his voice cracked as he headed into his closing remarks. "Frank and Marian perfectly complemented each other. I will always remember Marian as a woman of exceptional character. Her quiet overseeing of all things Wadsworth was done with such ease that no one ever understood how much she actually did. The most interesting thing was that she gave me advice before I realized I needed it. I think it was that way with everyone who knew her. She had instincts that were impeccable, and her timing was perfect."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was the last one to remember the family he'd been a part of, and then concluded by reciting his _Psalm of Life_.

"Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

"Life is but an empty dream!"

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;

"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul."

He stopped reciting to give his thought as to how Frank and Marian had always lived to the fullest. He continued on until he reached the final verses when he broke again. "I'd ask you all to think of this family as I conclude. I didn't have them in mind when I wrote these words, but I can think of no others who would be better models for those of us still suffering our earthly bonds." He cleared his throat before beginning again.

"Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing

Learn to labor and to wait."

The attendees remained hushed when Longfellow finished his recitation. Reverend Peabody let the quiet linger a few moments and then rose for the benediction. With the service completed, he asked Adam to come forward again. "Mr. Cartwright has a few announcements before you are dismissed."

Adam nodded toward the two men sitting at the front of the church, extending his thanks to them and then to all who had spoken. "I think Frank would have only one complaint: that he wasn't here in person. I believe he and Marian would ask that we not grieve their passing, but instead remember them as we have today." Adam bowed his head in a silent moment of reflection, and then motioned for the ushers at the back of the church to move forward. "Please make your way across the Yard by foot or in the waiting carriages, and join us for lunch and more time to reminisce."

 **Ten – Thursday, October 17, 1872 – 6 PM**

Hoss's yawn was contagious, spreading to the rest of the Cartwrights who had collapsed in Adam and Melinda's parlor after arriving home. It had been dark by the time they'd exited the hall. Adam could have arranged for the event to end, but neither the staff nor the guests seemed inclined to call a halt, and they'd remained, enjoying the fine liquor and conversation.

Thanks to Jillian and the Stoddards, lamps had been glowing and a fire stoked in the hearth when they'd arrived, removing the evening darkness and chill from the room. The table was set for the evening meal, and the aroma of roast chicken mingled with the scent from the fire. The group decided to relax for a few minutes before tackling anything more, but Adam had barely gotten comfortable when he glanced upwards, and then turned towards Melinda with a smile. The footsteps above them indicated that the house was not empty as they'd thought, and they both sat up in readiness for the onslaught of children who'd probably been impatiently waiting for their return.

"Daddy!" Elizabeth cried out as she ran to her father. "I was wishing you home for the longest time. What took you so long?" She didn't wait for his answer. "Ouch," she pouted after rubbing her cheek against his. She looked over her shoulder at her grandfather and uncles. "Daddy has sandpaper cheeks."

Joe laughed as he nudged Hoss and addressed the little girl. "I think your daddy was shaving twice a day by the time he was AJ's age. He ought to give up and grow a beard like his granddaddy."

Adam sent his brother a snarly look over his daughter's shoulder. "I think your uncle Joe is jealous of my fine whiskers, Princess Elizabeth." He turned the child around on his lap as he continued. "Are you shaving more than once a week now, Joe?"

"Gentlemen," Melinda broke in as she rolled her eyes and exchanged children with her husband.  
"There are some topics worth arguing about. Facial hair is not one of them."

"You might be right about that," Adam said as he hugged AJ soundly. "Did you and your sister eat dinner?"

The boy nodded. "But Grandma Sadie said that you'd bring a surprise for dessert."

"Grandma Sadie is a very wise woman." He stood AJ up and pointed toward the table by the door. "There are two small boxes and one big one over there. Do you think you can carry them over here?"

AJ nodded and hurried off to retrieve the parcels. Sadie appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, and laughed. "I knew you wouldn't forget your little ones even in the rush of day."

"We didn't have to remember," Melinda explained. "Chef Sanzian handed us those boxes as we left. He'd made a small Boston cream pie for each of the children, and then packed a box of leftover pastries for the rest of us to enjoy tonight."

"What a remarkable man," Sadie commented as the two children opened their boxes and stared open-mouthed at the small cakes, decorated with their names.

"You do have wonderful friends here, Adam," Ben added after oohing over the cake she showed him bearing a frosting, "Elizabeth."

Abel had made his way over after seeing the coach drop off the funeral-goers, and clapped his hands together as he walked into the room. "Are you all as hungry as I am? I don't suppose you got to eat much at the affair."

"You're right about both things, Abel," Hoss agreed. "I barely got a plate filled and started eating when I ended up talking to so many people that I never got to finish it. And no matter how good that fancy chef is, Sadie does the kind of cookin' I appreciate even more."

"I was afraid you'd bring left-overs from the luncheon, but I went ahead with a hot meal anyway, and now I'm glad."

Melinda responded. "We had the remaining food taken to a mission. And Hoss is right; your dinner is making my stomach growl."

The Cartwrights and Stoddards sat around the large table for Sadie's feast, while AJ and Elizabeth joined them for a small piece of their cakes before heading up to bed.

Adam gathered his children to him as he said goodnight and apprised them of the one-time change to their routine. "Your grandfather, your uncles, mommy and I need to finish our dinner and then talk about tomorrow, so Jillian will read a story and tuck you in tonight. We'll stop in later to check on you." The two made their way around the table giving hug and kisses before heading toward the steps. Adam's resolve to absent himself from their bedtime fled as his cheeks turned pink, and he excused himself to, "Get them settled." Melinda met him at the stairs, and the couple chased their youngsters up the steps while the rest of the family laughed.

"Adam sure does take to bein' a daddy," Hoss mused as Sadie began cleaning plates.

The empty serving dishes attested to the family's claims of hunger, and the older woman laughed as she took Hoss's plate. The weight of the chicken bones atop it nearly tipped it from her hand. "I do love cooking for you, young man."

"The pleasure is mine, ma'am. My brother is one lucky man to have you next door." To punctuate his thanks, Hoss helped carry the dishes to the kitchen and brought back a tray with coffee and cups. Sadie followed with plates containing an assortment of the confections Chef Sanzian had sent.

Adam and Melinda returned a few minutes later. "I'm sorry for the delay," Adam said as he resumed his seat. I'd promised AJ to tell him about the service when I saw him this morning. He has a big heart and wanted to know if we'd said goodbye."

"Lizzy on the other hand," Melinda continued, "Just wanted to make sure we put the rest of her cake somewhere safe so no one would eat it."

Ben smiled at his eldest son after taking a sip of coffee. "I do wish we lived closer to you. I will miss those two with all my heart. But I suppose I'll never convince you to come back."

Adam's thoughts ran quickly over his possible plans should the outcome of the will mean his ousting from Wadsworth. His voice was thoughtful. "As Lizzy might say; never is a long, long, time, Pa." He saw Melinda's brows rise and settle with his words, and he knew she'd have plenty to say about moving from Boston if it came to that. A move would involve many lives beyond theirs and too many details to consider yet. But he knew that if needed, they would figure it out together.

 **Eleven – Friday, October 18, 1872 – Morning**

"I still can't believe that none of Frank's family was willing to come along to thank the crew." Ben shook his head as he fastened his top shirt button, and then turned to Abel who was standing in the bedroom doorway. "Only one even officially declined, and that was Henry Longfellow. He said he had other commitments and couldn't attend."

"The rest must think there's nothing in it for them," the older man suggested. "Frank must have been very tight-lipped about his affiliations in that family."

"I doubt that anyone could foresee such a tragic event, and it's made me realize that I have to do some work on my will. I've left things in equal shares to the boys or their heirs, but I've never considered what I'd want done should there be a family catastrophe. I don't want the Ponderosa left up for grabs."

Abel walked behind Ben, his smile reflecting in the dresser mirror. "I'm sure you've already got your plan."

Ben flashed his father-in-law a knowing smile as he passed him and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. "It would be so much easier if Joe and Hoss would get married and have children. Then their estates would hold precedence." He shrugged. "But we now see that we have to plan for all possibilities. I'll talk to Adam later, but I think he'll agree with our thoughts. We'd have to sell some acres to pay outstanding debts, but we'd deed it to the government to have it declared protected land—like what they're doing in Wyoming this year with dedicating Yellowstone as the first national park. The Ponderosa doesn't have as much in geologic features as that area, but it still has stands of virgin pine on the hillsides around Lake Tahoe, and it's some of the most beautiful land around there." He shivered noticeably. "I can't imagine some unscrupulous person buying the Ponderosa and desecrating the land."

"Maybe it could be a wildlife refuge. President Grant set aside parts of Alaska for that purpose. The Ponderosa would be easier since they wouldn't have to purchase it."

"That's a good idea I hadn't considered." Ben winked at the older man. "I'd be happiest if the land would remain Cartwright. We can practice our own conservation that way."

Abel pursed his lips as he considered asking the next question, and sat next to Ben on the bed. "How did Adam do yesterday? I heard all your stories last night at dinner, and there was an article in the morning paper about the moving tribute he put on for the family. But how is _he_ doing; I mean in his head and heart?"

Ben blew out a long breath. "He seems fine, and after making the rounds of the crews today, he'll be able to relax over the weekend before facing the next challenge." He laid his hand on Abel's arm. "I imagine you know Adam nearly as well as I do by this time, and can see the cracks in that solid exterior. There are hitches in his voice now and then, and his silence at times indicates to me that he can't speak for fear of exposing deeper emotions. He always does best in situations when he can do something, and he's had plenty to do."

"You said at dinner that you'll stay a while. That's good; he'll need your thoughts after the will is read." He rested his hand atop Ben's. "I wondered what kind of father you'd be when you left with my grandchild. When I met Adam as a young man, I realized my faith in you had been well-founded. The old sailing captain in me will take some credit for my grandson being able to chart a true course, but you are the reason he has the will and drive to do it. I only wish Elizabeth..." The old man's voice trailed off as he focused on a small framed portrait of his daughter and Ben on the dresser.

Ben rose as he heard the rumble of a carriage outside. "Thank you, Abel. I appreciate all that you've done for him as well. And…I'm pretty sure his mother knows everything about her…baby boy." He was chuckling as he reached to help his father-in-law to his feet. "I'm glad you're up to coming along today. We should head down now; our transportation has arrived."

*** **Friday, October 18, 1872 – 2 PM*****

Adam had his arm around Melinda's shoulders as he walked with her to the waiting coach. When they reached the door, he pulled her close. "Thank you for being the rose among the brambles today. I think the lunches were well received, and there isn't a man in our crew that doesn't think you're the best part of Wadsworth Engineering."

She smiled up at him and then wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him. "There, that ought to give them something to talk about this afternoon," she said as a round of whistles and calls erupted from the crew watching them from a distance.

"Well if that's the intent, then let's make it worthwhile." He kissed her again. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but rather one that conveyed his absolute love of the woman he was holding. "We'll all see you at home later. I hope the talk with your new author goes well."

They stood holding hands at a proper distance to make the men go back to eating. She grinned sheepishly. "I hope you don't think my kiss was just meant for show. I've adored kissing you since the first exuberant one you gave me when I brought you the letter from Hoss that had been mistakenly delivered to my aunt. You were young and handsome, but gangly like a big puppy back then. Yet, that first kiss made my head spin, and I didn't want it to end."

"I feel the same way about you, Melinda, and I don't care why you want to kiss me; just that you still want to." His comment was punctuated by a wink.

She looked again at the men milling around as they laughed and talked. "This was good way to remember the Wadsworth with the crews. I heard many wonderful comments about Frank…and you. The only criticism was that there was no beer."

"A quarter-keg will arrive at each site about an hour before quitting. I couldn't have them drinking with lunch. You need your senses about you for this kind of work."

Melinda nodded as she spotted her son among the group. A look of worry haunted her face as she thought back to almost losing her son at this place. Her brow was still wrinkled when she looked back at her husband. "Why don't I take AJ with me? I've enough time to drop him off at the house."

"I saw that look," he acknowledged with an understanding smile. "I shudder each time I think of how much you nearly lost in the waters of that river. But today there's not a crazy person in sight, and AJ's got the crew and my family watching out for him. Besides, he wouldn't take kindly to being removed from the fun he's having." He grinned widely. "I often think that AJ is more comfortable in the company of adults than he is with kids."

"Hmmm," Melinda replied as her lips took on a smirkish tilt. "Just like someone else I've been hearing about lately. The stories your father tells about your journey west depict a boy who held his own with adults too."

"I suppose that's true…at least until my brothers came along. But…I seem to remember that you spent most of your youth living with your aunt."

She blushed. "That's true as well. Lizzy's the same way though. She adores being with Jillian and Sadie. They're three peas in a pod."

Adam stole another quick kiss before escorting Melinda to the steps of the coach and waved goodbye as it left. When he turned, he saw the entire crew watching…and smiling. He supposed it made them secure in knowing that their boss had a good family life. Nothing tore a company apart faster than an unhappy man at the helm. The men were used to displays of affection between Frank and Marian, who had always held hands as they'd walked a site together, and had always parted with a kiss, no matter who was watching. Truth be told, the older couple's devotion had always eased Adam's mind too.

He made his way back to the group while encouraging them to finish the leftovers. He also let them know that there was a box of Palmer House confections for each of them to take home. When he finished, he pulled his family aside. "The day I spoke to our head of security about sending men to the jobsites, he told me that there was no reason we couldn't go out to the estate to ride. He recommended not using the house, but the horses and equipment we'd use are mine."

"I suppose you'll have to find a different facility for your animals once this is settled." The comment came from his father.

"There's a stable not too far out of town where we can board them. It doesn't have the acreage of Wadsworth Estate, but it'll do. Melinda and I have talked about coming to the Ponderosa for a visit next summer, and the children can spend a few weeks riding every day."

"I'd be proud to sit them little ones on a horse and take 'em around the property, big brother," Hoss vowed. "Give me some warnin' and I'll make sure we gentle a couple smaller animals for them."

Joe asked, "When do you think we can go out to see the place?"

Adam's eyes twinkled. "The men are going back to work now, so I think we'll grab AJ and head there. I don't have to go to the office since I gave the engineers and staff the day off for helping with the service and lunch yesterday. We won't have time to ride today, but Sam and Miranda are coming over early tomorrow and we can all go out and do it then." A puzzled look shaded his features as he raised his hand to provide relief from the glare of the bright afternoon sun. His heart began pounding as he tried to keep his building panic from showing in is voice. "Where's AJ? I saw him run through not more than a minute ago, but I don't see him now."

Hoss smiled as he touched his brother's shoulder. "I've been keeping watch, Adam. I felt just like you every time I couldn't spot him." He pointed toward the tool shack. "He followed a cat in there. He said somethin' about her havin' babies he wanted to see."

The worry-lines look softened, only to be replaced by an ashen color. He was already moving when he called back, "Melinda will have my hide if he comes home with a cat scratch!"

The three remaining Cartwright cringed, as Ben spoke. "I suppose the poor woman is afraid that her children might react as badly to being scratched as she did."14*

"But didn't they say that only some cats have that fever in 'em?" Hoss asked worriedly as he thought about that frightening time when he'd found his sister-in-law wandering on the Ponderosa in the throes of delirium after a mishap with one of the stray cats living in their barn.

Ben nodded. "That's the trouble; you don't know which ones have it until someone gets sick. I don't think there's a problem. I saw the crew feeding that cat earlier. They said she helps keep the mice and rats away."

Joe snickered, "The site I worked at had a different visitor, so let's hope AJ's just playing with a mama cat and not a polecat like we had."

There was enough light filtering through the spaces between the boards of the shack that Adam could see his son in the far corner with a pile of kittens on his lap. His fear eased when he noticed the female feline moving back and forth, rubbing her neck against AJ's coat sleeve while purring loudly. He spoke in a gentle tone so as not to startle the boy or the cat. "Come along now. We're going to go visit our horses at the farm." AJ loved the stables and immediately began ridding his lap of the tiny fur balls. But the final one's needle-like claws were stuck in the nubby fabric of his trousers.

"I need help, Daddy," he giggled as he lifted the small gold and white calico that was attached to him like a burr on a dog's ear.

Adam's eyes hadn't fully adjusted to the shadowed interior, so he hadn't seen the mother cat reposition herself directly in front of him. His step forward to help his son landed squarely on her tail, making her shriek loud enough to sound like a banshee was in hot pursuit. He jumped backwards, flinging his arms out for balance. His right arm connected with the bracket of a ceiling cradle holding lengths of heavy lead pipe. The disturbance was enough to make the contents shift and cause the bracket to fail, bringing the pipes crashing down around him—the final one slamming into the back of his head. The blow knocked him to his knees, making his head spin and his stomach lurch as the pain spread throughout his skull and then downward along his spine.

A number of deep breaths, and deeper oaths, managed to quell the waves of pain and nausea, although the stars before his eyes persisted. It seemed to take hours for his equilibrium to return to normal, yet he supposed it had been only a few seconds. He leaned back, resting his body against his legs, figuring he would fall if he tried to stand just yet. Only then did he notice the panicked look in his son's eyes, and he attempted a laugh to stem the boy's fear. It came out sounding like a strangled moan.

The child pulled the kitten free, and came to his father's side. "Should I get Grandpa?"

Adam pulled at AJ's sleeve when he tried to leave, and once again attempted a smile. Another deep breath was enough to stem the ill-effects enough to speak. "I'm all right, son." The smile was lopsided, and if the boy could have seen better, he would have noticed the high color in his father's cheeks. "How about we keep this little…um…mishap to ourselves. If your grandpa or uncles heard anything, we'll say that the pipes fell, but we won't add in the part about the ones that landed on me." To AJ's response that he didn't want to lie, Adam explained, "I'm not asking you to lie. We just won't tell them the whole story. Hoss and Joe will never stop teasing me about it if they hear why it happened." He saw the serious expression remain on the face next to him.

The boy nodded and tried to pull his father to his feet. "So it's a secret, not a lie?"

He was up and moving now, and although his head hurt, the dizziness had passed. He nodded carefully, not wishing to test the soundness of his body just yet. "That's the perfect way to think about this, son! It'll be our secret."

The two exited the shack and brushed the dust from their clothing. Adam couldn't miss the controlled grins on the four men who were waiting for them.

"So what was that crash, older brother?" Joe asked when they got back. "Did one of your competitors lay a trap for you in there?"

"It was nothing that sinister, little brother. Some pipes fell when I bumped the rack they were in," Adam replied, forcing a smile. "The cat seems pretty friendly for a stray," he added, changing the subject. "She didn't mind that AJ was holding her little ones, but she did get a little upset with the noise." Adam examined his son's cheeks and pushed the boy's sleeves up to check his arms. "Nary a scratch; thank goodness." He began walking toward the crew with AJ in hand and turned back when the rest didn't follow. "C'mon. Let's say our goodbyes and get going. I thought you wanted to see that fine New England horseflesh."

 **Twelve – Friday, October 18, 1872 – Evening**

Melinda was waiting in front of the house when the coach pulled up with the men. She took one whiff of her husband as she gave him a welcome home kiss, and laughed. "I take it you were able to visit the horses?"

Joe grinned. "Are you implying that we smell like the barn, my dear lady?"

"I'm not implying anything, sir; I'm saying it outright."

"We spent an hour or so checking the stock," Ben explained. "The stable men are taking excellent care of them."

"They've become pasture animals since Frank and Marian moved to England," Melinda said sadly. "I remember the wonderful parties where the men would perform daring feats of jumping with their steeds, and the women would mount more sedate animals to ride out to a fabulous picnic in the woods. But the glory days of that estate are over now unless the heir would reinstitute some of those traditions." She frowned. "So much is lost in this situation."

"I wish I could get at them four-legged critters. I'd have them out workin' on that sweep of grass every day," Hoss suggested eagerly.

Adam smiled at his wife. "AJ was very impressed with his uncle's knowledge about the horses out there." His smile turned to a smirk. "I think he was surprised when I told him that I was the one who taught Hoss about horses."

"You might'a done that, Daddy, but Uncle Hoss knows a lot more than you do now." AJ said with conviction.

AJ's comment elicited a begrudging, "You might be right about that," and a nod from Adam, causing an unexpected swirl of imbalance. The headache he'd noticed on the way home was suddenly pounding in his head, and his stomach felt too closely located to his throat. The symptoms had hit him so hard and quickly that he had trouble concentrating on what Melinda was saying.

"Sadie played too hard with Lizzy all day, and said if we want supper, we need to go get it. So we're walking down the street for fish and chips." She laughed as she sniffed the air. "But you all might want to change your clothes before we go."

"What are fish and chips?" Joe asked.

"It's a new food trend out of London involving fried fish and potatoes. I think you'll like it, but if you don't, they have other things."

"I don't care what it is, as long as there's plenty of it." Hoss smacked his lips. "I'm as hungry as an ol' bear."

The difficulty in concentration was increasing along with the pounding in his head. Adam turned cautiously to his wife. "I hate to be a stick in the briar, but all the planning and eating of the last few days have caught up to me. I think it best if I stay home to work on thank you notes, and turn in early."

Melinda's concern was immediate and she walked with him toward their front door. "Are you feeling ill?"

He couldn't move his head without increasing the sensation that he was falling, but he finally managed a clipped, "Bad headache."

Melinda stuck her head in the doorway to Adam's office once she'd gotten AJ changed and they were ready to leave. There was stationery on the desk along with a fountain pen and blotter, but nothing had been written. Adam was sleeping so soundly on the couch that she whispered, "You poor thing," as she covered him with a quilt she pulled from the armoire, and kissed his cheek. She left the lamp burning on a short wick so the room wouldn't be completely dark if he awoke while they were gone, and shut the door to a crack.

The restaurant was doing a robust business and the large group had to wait to be seated. Hoss was on his third helping of the greasy fish and chips when he declared, "This ain't somethin' I'd go for all the time, but it sure is good for this time."

As the eating slowed and the plates emptied, Abel asked, "Should we take something home for Adam?"

Melinda thought back to the pale man who'd swallowed hard before being able to speak. "There's plenty at the house, but I think he needs sleep more than food."

"Rest is the best thing for him," Ben interjected. "If I know my son, he's had trouble sleeping since this all began."

She smiled knowingly at her father-in-law. These people all knew Adam well, and could imagine what he'd gone through. There was no need to confirm it.

 **Thirteen – Friday, October 18, 1872 – 9 PM**

Having their bellies full had sedated her children, but Melinda had known they were in for trouble when the cool night air on the walk home had re-energized them. She left them in the care of Hoss and Ben while she and Joe made their way to the house to check on Adam. Their squeals of delight at being chased by their Uncle Hoss nearly shook the windows, and their mother smiled as she removed her cape and hat, and then helped Joe bring the lamps up inside the house. She hoped Adam was feeling well enough to join them for a few minutes and say goodnight to his children. AJ and Lizzy always settled more easily when he was there. She supposed it was a combination of love, respect, and a healthy dose of wondering what he might do if they didn't quiet down and go to sleep.

Adam was not a disciplinarian, but the children knew he expected them to behave. The only time she could even remember a spanking, or a "necessary talk" as Adam had deemed it in honor of his own father, was when AJ had lit a fire. He'd wanted to see how quickly a dry leaf could combust. The answer, as he'd found out, was pretty doggone fast, and since the one leaf had been surrounded by companions, AJ had managed to start a small bonfire in the back yard. Adam had explained why the infraction was so serious, and then promised AJ that he could ask his parents about anything he was interested in exploring…before initiating the punishment that had given the boy a physical reminder of their conversation.

"Melinda?"

Joe was smiling when she looked towards him, and she realized she'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't been listening. "I'm sorry, Joe. My thoughts drifted away."

"I'd say you drifted at least a continent away." He chuckled. "I said that the door to Adam's office looks to be where you left it earlier, so I don't think he's been up. Should we wake him?"

As they walked toward the office, Melinda grinned at her brother-in-law. "Did you notice how our waitress kept smiling at you, and handed the bowls of food to you so you had to look up at her? I think she had eyes for you, Joe. But then why wouldn't she? You're mildly handsome, quick with a joke, and flirtatious, making you the kind of husband any not-too-choosey woman might want."

Joe returned the teasing. "So what did you see in my older brother that made you choose him?" He put his finger to his forehead in mock thought. "You must have been looking for a grouchy, hairy man with a rock-hard head and little emotion."

"Hmm." She stopped walking and shot him a look of feigned amazement. "Now that you mention it, I have no idea why I didn't pick you instead. How about I leave Adam and we'll run away together?"

They'd reached the door, and Joe asked a last question. "So how soon so you think go ahead with your plan to leave that husband of yours? I'll need to pack."

She leaned nearer to speak more quietly as she took Joe's hand. "The problem with this plan is that I love the hairy, hard-headed, man who's snoring in this room. What I saw from the first day I met him was his heart, his faithfulness, and determination. Without him, I am half of who I am with him, and I don't think I could live that way."

Joe smiled and pulled her into an embrace as he whispered back, "My brother is a lucky man."

They moved ahead as Melinda pushed the door open. The sound they heard as they entered, stopped them cold. The low light on the desk revealed that Adam was not only awake, but had taken a defensive position, crouching behind the desk. He was holding his pistol, and at the moment it was cocked and aimed at them.

Joe eased Melinda behind him. "It's just us, Adam. Joe and Melinda. I'm sorry we startled you. Put the gun down and we'll get it a little brighter in here."

Adam stood, but the gun remained in his hand, pointed at his brother's heart. He reached over and raised the wick in the lamp. His voice sounded pained and strangled as he said, "Couldn't you two wait until I'm officially declared a failure before making plans to be together?"

"What are you talking about?" Joe tried to sound nonchalant, but his nerves and reflexes were on alert.

"I know I'm losing everything. It'll make you happy to watch me limp away like a lame dog while you lay claim to what I had. Won't that be a fine day… _Little_ _Joe_. You and the woman I love can sail off to another continent while I face disgrace alone. I'll end up living under a bridge like the other lost souls while you two live the good-life in France." Adam's voice had dripped with venom as he'd pronounce Joe's name, but his diatribe had exhausted him. He used his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and then massage his temples.

Melinda understood that something was terribly wrong, yet she had no idea what it might be. She was visibly trembling as she stepped out of Joe's shadow and walked slowly toward the desk. "I don't think you're fully awake, sweetheart. Joe and I were at dinner with your family, but you stayed back because you weren't feeling well. I think maybe you heard bits and pieces of the teasing Joe and I were engaged in outside the door and you're getting that mixed into the dream you were having."

Adam had no idea what Melinda was talking about. It was worse than that though; nothing seemed familiar. Part of what she'd said made sense. He had heard laughter and grabbed his Colt from the drawer. But now everything was jumbled together as he tried to remember what he'd heard. Hadn't they concluded that Melinda had chosen the wrong man, and hadn't Joe said they were going away together? His brother planned on going to France to open a restaurant, and he was taking Melinda along. That didn't seem right, but Joe had always competed with him and now, when he was helpless to fight back, the kid was going to move in. That didn't seem right either, but it seemed to have been borne out in what he'd overheard.

When he didn't answer, Melinda spoke more firmly. "Put the gun down, Adam. You don't want to hurt anyone. Try to wake up a little more, and then I'll make some tea and get you settled for the night."

"I'm not a child," he spat at her. "You just want me out of the way so you two can get on with your plans!"

"Stop it!" She didn't know what else to say to change this situation.

When Joe tried to step forward, Adam pointed the pistol menacingly. "Stop right there." His attention was drawn to the noise outside the window. "Whose urchins are playing out there at this hour of the night? What kind of parents would allow their children to run wild like that?"

Melinda drew back as though slapped. "Those are _our children_ , Adam. They're playing with Hoss to get a little sleepier before bed time. It's only eight PM."

"My children?" The question tore his mind apart. He couldn't remember having children. "How…m…many…?" He laid the gun on the desk and dropped to the chair, cradling his head in his hands and moaning softly.

She was at his side in an instant. "We have two children; AJ and Elizabeth." Her hands were shaking as she stroked his cheek and made him look up at her. "I think you are more ill than we thought. You need a good night's rest and I'm sure things will be clearer in the morning." She was able to move the gun out of reach before helping him to stand again. "Come up to bed now."

Something in his memory made him think he could trust Melinda, but it made no difference. He still couldn't remember having children, and right now, only these few square feet around him felt safe. When she tried to pull him forward, he grabbed at her wrist. The jumble of fear; the loss of memory, and overwhelming pain in his head fired his anger. "Stop mothering me!" he shouted at her. He had no idea why he'd said it or what he planned to do. The one thing he wanted most was to be alone to sort things through.

"C'mon, sweetheart." She adopted a light tone while taking his free hand and pulling him toward her.

His grip on her wrist tightened and his face set in an angry scowl. "The only thing I want is for both of you to get out of here. And feel free to pack; I won't stand in your way."

Melinda's eyes widened as she experienced her husband's brute strength for the first time. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears and feel it in her throat. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to wrest her arm free, and she finally cried out, "Adam! You're hurting me."

He withdrew his hand immediately and looked at it. It felt disconnected—foreign and evil. One look at Melinda confirmed his worst fear. She was crying and rubbing at her wrist and he could see the red marks where his fingers had gripped. And still nothing made sense. He sat again as he regrouped enough to say, "I'm sorry." He looked up at her, and remembered…nothing. He knew Melinda—felt something burning deep in his heart when he looked at her—and had even accused Joe of taking the "woman he loved." But he couldn't remember anything about being with her intimately. How could they have produced children? It was all wrong, but instead of admitting this, he adopted the ways of a wounded wild animal and sought to hole-up. "You're right; I was having a strange dream and then I thought there was an intruder. I'm sorry for what I said to both of you," he bit his lip and closed his eyes before looking at Melinda. "And did to you. I wasn't myself." He flashed a brief smile. "But I'm thinking clearly now, although I'm still not feeling well, so it's best if I go back to sleep. I'll stay in here for tonight…just in case I am getting sick. You better get back to your children." When Joe and Melinda didn't move quickly enough, he pointed toward the door and said firmly, "Please leave. And close the door if you would."

Joe knew it was time to retreat, and while Adam's head was down, he moved forward to take the gun, and then guided Melinda to the exit. His trembling matched hers as they stared at each other once they were outside the closed door. He walked her into the living area and said softly, "Do you really think he was all right?"

She shook her head. "It seems like a small thing, but he said I should go to _my_ children and didn't tell me to say goodnight to them. He'd never forget that if he was all right."

"We always used to say that our older brother didn't give in to sickness until it knocked him out, and I think that's what happened in there. You know he doesn't like to admit he's human like the rest of us." Joe grinned as he tried to lighten her concern. "He'll be right as rain in the morning." He took her wrist and examined it. "Did he hurt you?"

The welts were still defined, showing exactly where his fingers had been. "I think it surprised me more than it hurt. I've always known he was strong…" her voice trailed off as she recalled the look in her husband's eyes. "Rest is the sure cure," she affirmed. "He'll drift back to sleep quickly and probably won't even remember this." She sought Joe's eyes in trust. "Can we keep this to ourselves? Sam can examine him if he's not feeling better when they get here tomorrow."

Joe nodded. "I understand how you feel, but I'm going to tell Pa about it now. I'll sleep in the parlor tonight, just…"

Her nod was tentative, yet she understood his concern. "That's probably a good idea. You'll hear him if..." Their remarks were cut short as they heard the back door open and the voices of happy children. She ran to shush them. "Daddy isn't feeling well, and he's trying to sleep in his office." To forestall their worry, she appealed to their sibling competitiveness. "Let's see who can tiptoe most quietly, get ready for bed without saying a word, and fall asleep the fastest. The winner gets to ride the pony first tomorrow."

She awoke from a fitful sleep, surprised that she'd dozed off at all. Yet the long day and emotional upheaval at the end had taken their toll, leaving her exhausted. She'd left a lamp burning so she could see the clock. It was one a.m., and it took every bit of her resolve to stop from rushing down to wake Adam and see if he was doing better. She felt helpless except for continuing the activity she'd been engaging in when she'd fallen asleep: praying.

When she finished pouring out her heart's concerns and hopes, she donned a robe and made her way downstairs to check on her brother-in-law. It wasn't a surprise to find Joe awake and reading in a chair, while Hoss slept on the couch. "So you can't sleep either?" she whispered as she completed the steps and made her way to him.

"I dozed off, but then I thought I heard something."

Melinda's eye popped open. "Was it Adam?"

Joe's head moved side-to-side. "It was something out front; a horse and buggy, I think." He nodded toward the door of the room that held their interest. "I thought I'd stick my head in and make sure he was sleeping, but he's got it locked."

"It's just as well, I suppose. At least that way you'll hear him if he ventures out." She grimaced before saying, "I'm sorry I didn't come down after getting the children settled, but I couldn't talk any more just then, and then I dozed off. What did Ben say when you told him?"

"Pretty much as I figured: Adam's been burning the candle too low; rest has always been what he needs most when he gets this worn out, and he always had tortured dreams when he was ill." He chuckled. "I can tell you that the last thing Pa wanted to do was go to bed, but I convinced him to stay put by telling him that Hoss could sleep down here too in case I needed a little muscle power, and we'd come get him if anything happened." When Melinda yawned, he nodded toward the snoring mound on the couch. "Hoss can sleep through anything, but do you think you can get a little more shuteye?"

"Maybe; how about you?"

"I'll try."

She leaned to kiss Joe's cheek and sighed. "I still have to wonder why he thought you and I were plotting against him."

Joe had been thinking about the same question as he'd tried to fall sleep. He remembered Adam being accused of something similar years ago, and the circumstances surrounding that was setting his nerves on edge. He kept those fears to himself as he offered, "Adam and I were always competitive. We enjoyed besting one another whenever we could. I imagine that his worry about the company and all the things he's been dealing with got mixed together with what he'd heard us talking about."

Melinda rubbed her wrist in the darkness as she tried to sleep again. The welts were gone, but the phantom pain lingering in her skin was fueled by the worry that Adam had fallen into some dark pit in the hours he'd spent alone. Was it his years of loss and struggle that had ultimately consumed his light…or was it simply the rambling of a fevered mind as Ben and Joe had suggested? She wanted to believe that he was physically ill, yet she'd felt no abnormal heat in his skin when she'd touched his face.

Despite her anxiety, she found the early sun peeking through the clouds, painting her bedroom with golden streaks of hope when she next opened her eyes. It was still early, but enough hours had passed that she assumed Adam's condition would have improved. She dressed hurriedly.

 **Fourteen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 6 AM**

She smiled when she realized she wasn't the only early riser. Ben, Hoss, and Joe were dressed and waiting for her in the parlor. "So is it time to open the door and see what's inside?" she teased. "I'm sure all will be well, so you can lose those dour looks."

"We already done tried the door, and it's still locked." Hoss replied. "But we thought we'd wait fer you before doing anything."

She bypassed the men, walked to the office and knocked loudly. "Adam, it's time to get up." Her voice was cheery, yet tense. She tried again, and listened for sounds to indicate that he was up and moving. Her fear rose as she wondered if he'd been more ill than they'd thought. The image of him suffering while she'd slept shook her. She nodded toward the largest Cartwright. "Get it open."

The locked door was no match for a worried Hoss, and the four of them rushed in as soon as it was swinging on its hinges. Melinda cried out in surprise, while Ben checked behind the desk, the only place not visible from where they were standing, and declared the obvious. "He's gone."

Joe slapped the side of his head when he saw the curtains fluttering at the open window. "That's what I must have heard last night." He shook his head. "But it sounded more like a carriage on the street, not a window opening or someone walking by the house."

"I'm sure Adam didn't make any noise, son," Ben offered. "He might live in the city, but he's still got his wilderness skills. We'll search outside…" His voice trailed off as he noticed papers on the floor around the desk, blown there by the same breeze that was keeping the drapery in motion. Most of what he gathered were blank notes, but he found a larger sheet of paper that had lodged under the desk with only a corner showing. The writing was imprecise and fuzzy in spots, perhaps indicating an unsteady hand. He motioned for Melinda to join him as he laid it on the blotter. "This is for you."

She sat at the chair, while the three others read over her shoulder.

 _My Love,_

 _I pen this in a moment of some lucidity._

 _My mind is a jumble. I recall little of what I said to you and Joe, but I think I came close to hurting you, and that has shaken me beyond reason. I pretended to understand what was happening so you'd leave. Yet, even with some time lapsed in contemplation; I can't remember being married or having children. In this tangle of thoughts and suspicions, I feel certain that you and Joe are planning to go to France together, yet I now think Frankie was planning that, not you. Thinking of him brings greater frustration because I sense something is wrong with my old friend and his family—a tragedy—that leaves me feeling devastated, yet without a framework. My memories are missing or chaotic. It frightens me, but even worse; it makes me furious._

 _I know I'm in Boston, but my surroundings provide no comfort, and I feel like a wounded animal trying to defend myself from the perceived threats around me. I have no idea why Joe is here. A funeral comes to mind, but I can't remember for whom. Perhaps I'm ill, but it's more likely that I'm losing my mind. I need time to think without fear of harming anyone more than I have._

 _My thoughts remain unreliable except for one: I do remember loving you with my entire heart. Another disturbing thought is that the name Ross Marquette keeps slipping through my recollection, evoking dread. I don't recall the circumstances associated with him either, only the surety that they prove a mind can become so deranged as to give license to destroy what it loves. This compels me to go._

 _There's a picture on the desk of you and me with two children—our family, I presume. Please help them remember me as the man I seem to be in this photograph; not as the monster I've become._

 _I will make sure you that you are notified once my deteriorating mental capacity is confirmed, and then you can go on with your life._

The writing turned unreadable at that point with a scrawl that may have been meant as a signature. Those around the desk stood in silence.

Ben sighed before prompting the group back to action. "Hoss; Joe, go outside and make sure he didn't collapse in the yard." He thought a moment and turned to Melinda. "Does Adam keep cash at the house?"

She nodded as she pulled open a drawer and undid a latch to expose a hidden space. "He always has a few hundred on hand, but it's gone."

"That's good. He was thinking straight enough to take that, so he must have had a plan."

"How can he think I'd simply go on without him?" The pools of tears in her eyes cascaded over her lower lashes as she looked up at her father-in-law. "And what do we do now?"

Ben knelt next to the chair and took her hands. We go on with the day's routine until we figure things out a little more." He looked up as he heard the thump of feet running above him. "Your little ones are up, so you're going to have to control your fear."

"What do I tell them about this?"

"Say that Adam had to go somewhere."

Melinda chuckled dryly. "That'll work for Lizzy, but AJ will pick up on our uneasiness."

Ben thought a moment. "If he questions you, tell him that you aren't sure where Adam had to go, but it isn't anything for AJ to worry about. For now, I'll go over and tell Abel and Sadie what's going on and bring them here. You and Sadie can make breakfast, while the men keep the children busy.

Ben was on his way to the door when Hoss and Joe came rushing in. Joe was still breathing hard as he said, "We checked both yards thoroughly. The bushes under the window are damaged where he went out, but other than that, there's no sign of where he went."

"I wonder if Joe heard a cab picking up Adam during the night." Ben looked to Melinda. "Is it likely he'd have found transportation during the night?"

"The pubs close around one, so he might have hailed a cab that dropped off a fare."

"There're cabs out there now," Ben noted after looking out the front window. "Go talk to the drivers, Joe. Ask them if they were on duty during the night."

"That's it?" Melinda's face sagged. "Can't we do more?"

Hoss took her hand and walked her to the couch. "I wasn't around for what happened last night, but it don't sound a lick like the brother I know. Somethin's wrong and we gotta figure out what that is before we can make plans. Dr. Sam and yer sister will get here soon. Maybe he'll have an idea about it." He patted her hands. "It don't pay to run off before we know where we're runnin' to."

 **Section Footnotes**

 **9** First Parish in Cambridge is a Unitarian Universalist church, located in Harvard Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts. In 1833, the congregation built the fifth and final Meeting House, which stands adjacent to present-day Harvard Yard. Harvard College held its annual commencement ceremonies there for the next forty years. Five Harvard College Presidents-Everett, Sparks, Walker, Felton, Hill, and  Eliot-began their inaugural terms there as well.

10 Memorial Hall was built with alumni funds to honor those who'd fought in the Civil War, but was in construction at this time, not finished. I will move this point of history forward a few years for fictional purposes.

10B Chef M Sanzian, was the first celebrity chef to be employed in the United States. I introduced him in this series when the Cartwrights visited the Parker House Hotel. His Boston Cream Pies have popped up as a treat created by Hop Sing, and later enjoyed by Hoss when he visited Boston.

 **11** At one time the President of Harvard was selected by a board of governors that included many elected officials. But a crisis in the educational system prompted a change. The system needed a manager as well as an academic who would strengthen the potential of Harvard graduates. An opinion had long been gaining ground that it would be better for the community and the interests of learning, as well as for the university, if the power to elect the overseers were transferred from the legislature to the graduates of the college. This change was made in 1865, and at the same time the governor and other state officers ceased to form part of the board. The effect of this change was to greatly strengthen the interest of the alumni in the management of the university, and thus to prepare the way for extensive and thorough reforms. Charles William Eliot succeeded to that office in 1869. This works well into my story with Frank Wadsworth being a well-known alumnus of Harvard, and I've already established Adam as someone working with the university to strengthen the curriculum of the engineering school.

 **12** Andrew Preston Peabody was preacher to Harvard University; the Plummer professor of Christian morals from 1860 to 1881, and was professor emeritus from 1881 until his death in Boston, Massachusetts, shortly before his 82nd birthday.

 **13** "Speculation" was a mild domestic gambling game that appeared towards the end of the 18th century and disappeared about a hundred years later. Jane Austen and Charles Dickens mention it in novels. It is described as being a fun and noisy game where chips were entered into a pot and won by the player with the highest trump. It honestly sounds like fun, and was probably a forerunner of many of the rummy games we play now.

 **14** In the third episode of the One Step Forward series, In Search of Safety, Melinda is scratched badly by a barn cat that carried the bactieria for Cat Scratch Fever.


	3. One Step Closer - Turns in Fate Part 3

**Fifteen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 8 AM**

The family was finishing breakfast when Sam and Melinda Green walked through the front door. The doctor didn't need to take a second look at the anxious faces at the table to know that something was wrong. He did a quick headcount and asked, "Where's Adam?"

Melinda sent the children outside with Jillian before letting the couple read the note and telling them about the incident that had provoked it. She looked intently at Sam when she'd finished. "What do you think is happening to him?"

He paced the living area as he considered what he'd heard, and finally faced the group. "It could be a number of things, so let's eliminate some of them." He raised his finger to indicate the first option. "A stroke could change his thinking and personality very quickly. Did you notice any slurring of speech or changes in his face or body…like one side wasn't working as well as the other?"

Melinda looked at Joe and then shook her head. "What Adam said was off, but his words were clear. He moved without problem and used both hands."

A second finger joined the first. "There's the possibility of a brain tumor. It might have been growing for some time, and has gotten large enough to cause a personality change. But I suspect you would have seen other indications of something amiss. Has he complained of headaches lately?"

Melinda blew a loud breath as she shook her head. "He mentioned having a bad headache when he got home yesterday, but I can't remember the last time he'd had one before that."

Sam reached for Adam's note and read it over again. "Who is this Ross, he mentioned? He seems to play a pivotal part in his fear. Might that hold a clue?"

Hoss cleared his throat. "I know this story as well as anyone. It weren't that Pa and Joe weren't there for Adam after it happened, but me and my older brother…well we could talk to each other about the hard stuff we'd gone through." The others leaned forward expectantly as he continued. "Adam and Ross had been friends for some 15 years. He'd started as a hand with us just before Adam left for school and by the time Adam got home Ross had saved enough to buy some land and start on his own ranch. My brother even stood up for Ross when he married Delphine, and he did anything he could to help them get the ranch goin' and makin' money. But things went bad in a flash one spring when Adam got home from helping Frankie over the winter in Frisco. He went to their house to ask Ross if he'd help us find a passel of steers we was missin', but when he got there, Ross accused him of sneakin' around with Delphine behind his back, and shot at Adam when he denied it. Turned out he'd accusin' his wife of awful things for months, and then beating her when she'd denied them. Adam tried to protect Delphine by bringin' her to our place," Hoss stopped and swallowed hard as he remembered the pain his brother had gone through. "But Ross snuck over when we was all out and beat her near to death. She died in Adam's arms and he realized what a sick, crazy animal his friend had become."

Melinda gasped. "He never told me about it, so it must have remained a raw scar. But how could he think he'd be capable of doing that to me?"

"That was the hardest part for Adam; he never thought his friend was capable of killing either, especially not the woman he loved," Hoss said as he shook his head. "Paul Martin told Adam the same thing Sam just mentioned: that it might'a been a brain tumor. But he thought it was likely Ross was so sick in his mind that he couldn't reason anymore. Ross had always seemed an honest, hard workin' sod-of-the-earth kind'a fella, but he'd been the one stealin' our beef and changin' the brand too."

"How could Ross suspect Adam of this…affair when he wasn't even home?" Melinda asked as she continued to think about the incident and its impact on her husband.

"A delusional mind will fabricate a story to best suit what they're experiencing," Sam explained. "Distrust, and accusations against family and friends is very common. In fact, it's probably what you and Joe experienced last night."

"So you think he is going insane like Ross?" Ben asked in an incredulous tone.

Sam began pacing again as he considered the known facts. "I don't think the situations are alike, although the symptoms seem similar. Hoss said that the friend's deterioration had been going on for months, but we all know that Adam was fine until yesterday evening."

"So then what did happen?" Hoss wondered aloud.

"There is the possibility that the death of the Wadsworths and the pending loss of the company might have become too much for him to deal with." Sam looked around the group. "The accumulation of severe stress can produce instantaneous catastrophic depression, hopelessness, and the inability to process information correctly. I've heard this called, a 'mental breakdown.'"

Sam's words startled the listeners, as evidenced by the round-eyed stares and rigid posture they assumed. He continued. "He might have held himself in check because he had so many details to oversee. But once that rush of activity ended, he lost focus."

"I don't think that's true," Melinda said with conviction. "He's always faced things square on."

"But he did say something last night about how we would see him as a failure." Joe's fists clenched as he said words he hated even as he uttered them. "Maybe that's what was different this time." His jaw clenched to match his fists.

Melinda wanted to slap Joe and call him out for his betrayal, but something in what he'd said rang true. "Could this sort of…break down…happen in a matter of hours?"

"It could have been building since he got the news. Still," he paused as he thought again. "I agree that Adam isn't the sort to fall apart. There's one more thing these sudden symptoms could indicate, and I'm actually leaning to this possibility: a head injury."

Ben stood abruptly. "This would have happened recently?" He received a nod from Sam, and his tone changed from hopeful to doubtful. "We've all been together the last two days, and there was no incident."

Sam crouched in front of Melinda, taking her hands. "I want you to think about being with Adam last night, and tell me what you saw—not just what you heard."

She closed her eyes, reliving the confusing episode. "He looked tired."

"How so?" Sam prodded.

"He had trouble keeping his eyes open, and he let his head drop forward like it was heavy…right Joe?" Her brother-in-law nodded. "I kept thinking that he wasn't fully awake." She looked at Joe again for confirmation.

"You're doing fine. Now tell me how he looked when he was holding your arm."

She shut her eyes again, and realized she had been looking directly at him when he'd been gripping her wrist. What she recalled made her gasp. "There was something wrong with his eyes! The color is so dark sometimes that it's hard to distinguish the pupil, but one was darker…maybe larger than the other. Could that mean something?"

"Yes, but go on. How did he act when he realized he was hurting you?"

"It seemed as though he didn't know he'd been doing it, and then moaned like he was in pain, using his fists to push against his temples."

Sam rose again and looked at the Cartwrights. "Are you sure he couldn't have been injured yesterday?"

Ben closed his eyes just as Melinda had done and let images of the previous day flow through his memory. He looked up suddenly, and said, "We need to talk to AJ. The only time we didn't see Adam was when he went to retrieve the boy from a shed."

"And we did hear some kind'a commotion in there," Hoss added.

Hoss brought his nephew into the room and held his shoulders gently as he stationed the child in front of Melinda. "Your mama has a question."

"Did your daddy hurt himself yesterday when he was in that shed with you?"

AJ shook his head. "I didn't do anything to Daddy."

Hoss gave the boy's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "We're not sayin' that, AJ. We just need to know if he bumped his head."

The child was frozen. His eyes darted between family members as he kept silent.

"It's all right, darling. Tell me about it." Melinda encouraged as she turned his face to see only her.

"It's a secret between Daddy and me," he finally confessed in a whisper to his mother.

"You can't keep that secret, honey. Daddy might be sick because of what happened. That ends all pacts you made with him."

"You don't want me to play with cats; I'm sorry, Mama. If I hadn't been doing that Daddy wouldn't have gotten hurt." Tears began to run down his cheeks. He dropped his head as the confession tumbled from his lips. "Daddy stepped on the mama cat in that shed and bumped something that made a pipe fall on his head." The truth exhausted the child and he turned to Hoss, hugging his uncle's legs as he continued to cry.

A collective sigh rose from those assembled. Sam smiled. "It seems we may have an answer." He pulled AJ from Hoss, and knelt next to him. "Can you show me where that pipe hit your daddy?" AJ indicated the area of his head just behind the crown. "What did he do when it happened?"

"He fell on his knees and grabbed his head." He sniffed loudly as he hiccupped away his remaining tears, and then looked at his mother. "Daddy said a bunch of bad words, but I tried not to listen." He returned his attention to his physician uncle. "He sounded like he was gonna throw up—you know, sort of urpy, and he fell back down a couple times when he tried to stand up. The he said he was fine but we shouldn't tell anyone, 'cuz he'd never hear the end of the teasing for tripping on a cat."

Sam was nodding. "You've been very helpful, AJ. I think we can fix your dad up just fine." What he didn't say was, if they could find him.

Once Jillian took AJ outside again, the doctor gave his diagnosis. "I think Adam took a serious head blow. The initial pain subsided and he went on with his day. What he didn't know was that vessels on his brain were bleeding or perhaps the tissue inside his skull swelled after the impact. Whatever the cause, it began pushing on parts of his brain that affect his memory, reactions, and judgment."

"Won't that continue to get worse?" Abel asked.

"It might, or it may have stopped already and he could be on the mend. But we have to find him to know which is true."

"He wrote that he needed a place to think." Joe's comment was seconded by Melinda.

Miranda spoke for the first time. "Didn't his note say he was concerned about becoming a monster? Might he have gone to the police and asked them to lock him up?" She gulped as her lips turned in a disgusted twist. "Or maybe he went to that mental asylum on the far side of town."

Melinda shuddered. "We'll check both places, but I believe that he wanted help, not just confinement."

No one expected to hear a small voice issue from under the dining room table. "Maybe he went to the monstery."

Melinda walked over and looked where her daughter was hiding. "What are you doing, my little one?"

"Sitting under the table," the child replied without guile.

"Lizzy likes to lurk under here," Melinda explained to the others, before turning back to the little girl. "Even though she knows she's not supposed to eavesdrop. You must have forgotten that, as well as that you were to stay outside with Jillian and your brother." She pulled her daughter from her hiding place and moved the child onto her hip and waited for a reply. Lizzy shrugged but offered no defense.

"Where do you think your daddy went, child?" Sadie asked. The older woman looked at the others. "Lizzy is very observant, and usually has sound ideas. Maybe we should hear her out."

Her mother sat, letting the girl straddle her lap. "What did you mean, honey?"

"I heard Aunt Miranda say that Daddy's a monster, so maybe he went to the monster place."

Melinda tried not to grin. "What is a monster place?"

"You know, Mommy. Its' on the way to Grandpa Frank's house. I asked why the men wore dresses to work in the garden, and Daddy said those weren't dresses. They were just still in their robes."

"Oh…the monastery." She hugged the girl to her as she smiled at the others. "The order of Saint John the Evangelist has a retreat center…" Her words stilled as her mouth dropped open. "From the mouths of babes."

Sam began to smile too. "St. John's offers sanctuary for those in turmoil. They participate in a monastic life of prayer and reflection while trying to find peace. The monks would protect his identity, keep him safe, and offer counseling."

Ben was up and heading for the door with his sons at his heels. "We'll get a cab."

Melinda passed her daughter to her sister as she went for her coat. Sam was at the door by the time she made it there. "We'll let you know when we find him," she called back to those remaining at the house.

 **Sixteen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 9 AM**

The Abbot of St. John's was waiting outside the monastery for his buggy to be brought around when a cab pulled in. "Mrs. Cartwright," he greeted Melinda as he opened the door and looked inside. "How fortuitous that you've arrived. I was about to travel to your house to report on your husband."

"Then Adam is here?" Melinda asked hopefully.

"Let me get this vehicle going in the right direction and I'll join you." He spoke to the driver and then looked more closely into the crowded coach, and chuckled. "Looks like I'll need to sit on someone's lap, but we'll all get there together." Ben and Joe squeezed closer together to open up a space for the Abbott, who pushed back until he was planted on the edge of the seat. "To answer your question; Mr. Cartwright _was_ here, but he's at the hospital now, and that's where we're heading."

Sam Greene knew Father Matthew from his work at the hospital, and took the lead. "We suspect that Adam is suffering from a head injury that left him confused and angry. He left last night but left a note that made us think he might have come to you for help."

Father Matthew tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe and nodded. "Mr. Cartwright arrived around 1:30. It isn't unusual for the monastery to receive guests during the night. The long hours of darkness often increases despair to unbearable limits. Mr. Cartwright gave his name as Ross Marquette. Of course I knew who he really was, just as I recognized you, Mrs. Cartwright. We are not a cloistered order, so we are active in the community. I have seen you and your husband at charitable and civic events; I've also seen him perform with the Boston Choir several times, and his picture is often in the newspaper. Yet with the state he was in, I thought it best to acknowledge the alias."

"Was he coherent?" Sam asked.

The Abbot's immediate answer came in a slight side-to-side head movement. "He was extremely anxious and agitated, but what he seemed to fear most was harming someone. I was unable to elicit a cause, so I focused on the easing the terror that sprang from it. He asked us to lock him in a room so he could rest without worry."

Melinda spoke in a near whisper. "Were you able to calm him?"

"He looked to be exhausted, and I knew he had to sleep before we could begin to sort things out. I took him to a private room with a locking door where he finally relaxed and lay on the bed. I read to him from the Book of Psalms; hoping the cadence of the verses would sooth his soul and calm him mind. When he dozed off, I stationed one of our larger brothers at his door and let him sleep. I knew he needed medical help more than spiritual assistance this morning when I couldn't wake him. Two of our brothers took him to Massachusetts General."

Ben stared at Sam with fatherly intensity. "I don't suppose this is the news you'd hoped for."

"He's in the best place now, Ben." He leaned forward to peer out the window. "We'll be there in ten minutes. Perhaps Father Matthew can lead us in prayer until we arrive."

"Will you three stop pacing," Joe growled at his father, Hoss and Melinda. "You're all going to collide, and if Hoss ends up on top, two of you will be flatter than pancakes."

Sam had taken the four Cartwrights to his office to wait while he found out what was happening. They hadn't been happy about not being allowed a visit, but Sam had convinced them that being in Adam's room would hinder the examination.

Melinda gave Joe a withering look for his comment and walked to the window, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. "I should have known he needed help," she whispered. "How could I sleep while he was suffering on the wrong side of a locked door?" Silent tears wet her cheeks as she watched leaves swirling from the oaks and maples in the brisk wind.

"Fall was Adam's favorite time of year," she said as she glanced back at his family. "He said the elevation of the Ponderosa supported mostly evergreens, and he'd missed the brilliant colors of New England." Melinda returned her focus outside as she heard Hoss say his brother had always talked about how purdy it got in Boston come October. She watched as a curled leaf lost its hold on a branch and drifted to the ground below, and wondered if the dying foliage was an omen. She pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve, dabbed at her cheeks, and lifted her mind to sweeter memories of the season.

Adam and AJ had raked leaves together in the fall since the family had returned from England. Elizabeth had joined in the tradition this year, and they'd added to the fun by burying themselves in the pile and then jumping out when she'd come outside looking for them. After they'd played enough to reduce the leaf pile to a reasonable size of crumbled pieces, they'd burned it, and came in the house afterwards wearing the smoky aroma of fall.

 _We've had so many happy days together and as a family_ , she thought. _But happiness never offers a guarantee of continuance._ She'd been concentrating so deeply that she'd missed Sam's entrance, and jumped when he put his hands on her shoulders from behind.

"We can give you a report," he announced as he guided her to his chair, and then perched on the corner of his desk. "This is Dr. Sidney Merchant." He indicated the man who'd accompanied him, and then completed the introduction by pointing to each of the Cartwrights as he named them and their relationship to the patient. "Sidney is a Mass General neurologist at who has extensive experience with brain trauma, so I'll let him explain what he thinks is happening."

"May we see him first?" Melinda interrupted.

"Soon, Mrs. Cartwright," Dr. Merchant promised. "There are decisions that will need to be made, and we should discuss those first." He chuckled as he saw the faces around him pale, and the patient's father take a quick seat. "Perhaps I made that sound more ominous than I should have. Let's begin with what we know." He cleared his throat and asked Sam for some blank paper and a pencil. As he spoke, he drew the profile of a head. "We found a lump on the back of Mr. Cartwright's crown, just about here." He indicated the position on the paper. "It is large; so the blow was substantial. Dr. Greene confirmed that the initial trauma involved vertigo and nausea, followed hours later by personality changes. These symptoms indicate a severe concussion. The monks who brought him in indicated he fell into an unconscious state towards dawn, and he remains that way. This is worrisome, yet his reflexes are good; he does react to pain stimulus, and although Sam mentioned a possible inequality in his pupils earlier, they are equal and responsive now."

"This all sounds like good news." Ben commented in a tone laced with hope.

"It is. Another positive is that I can't feel any fracturing of the skull. On the other hand, the fact that his symptoms escalated over time may indicate that the damage done inside his skull formed a pocket of blood that is pressing against his brain."

Melinda said, "I remember Sam mentioning that earlier. How serious is this?"

The moment of silence created by her question provided a pretty good idea of the answer, prompting Ben to begin stand abruptly and begin pacing again.

Dr. Merchant resumed his drawing. "Let me show you what's going on, so you'll understand what I might have to do." He drew a swirl of lines on the back and front of the head. "A person's cranium is not a solid mass." He smiled at the two younger men, and offered an aside. "Although Dr. Greene tells me that you two think your brother's head is made of New England granite." Joe and Hoss blushed as Dr. Merchant continued. "The brain moves inside the skull, and when it is struck from behind, it propels forward with equal force, striking the opposite interior wall of the skull." He sighed. "That forward force can rupture blood vessels or cause the brain to swell as the injured cells break down—akin to when an ankle swells after a sprain."

"Which is worse?" The question came from Joe.

"I can't fix a brain that's swelling. But I might be able to help if it's an accumulation of blood." A collective breath by his listeners raised both hope and cheek-color.

"What can you do?" Melinda looked first to Sam and then to the neurologist. "And how soon will he recover?"

A pause preceded Dr. Merchant's answer. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Mrs. Cartwright. Your husband could simply wake up from this. I noticed a few scars in his scalp that would indicate he's sustained other head injuries without lasting effects. Dr. Greene said this accident happened around 2 PM yesterday, so we're not even at 24 hours yet. We'll wait that long before moving forward. But…if he should begin to convulse or remain asleep...I can perform a trephination15* to clear the accumulating blood and cauterize leaking vessels."

Ben gulped. "What is that word you used?"

"Trephination means that I would bore a hole through his skull to access the outer surface of the brain and make repairs."

The sound coming from Hoss sounded like a bull calf being castrated. "Ah naw. You can't be serious about drillin' a hole in his head! That's…I don't know…." He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes. "Barbaric is what it is."

Joe was holding his head in his hands, and Melinda's jaw hung open in utter shock. Only Ben was able to deal with the idea of the suggested surgery. "You've done this before?"

"Many times, especially during the war when men experienced head injuries from shrapnel and the concussion of cannon fire."

Melinda regained her voice. "And it works?"

A nod. "There is the need for increased vigilance after such an opening is made, but with care a person can lead a normal life."

"How…how do you…?" Hoss asked, leaning back against the wall looking pale enough to become the next person to lose consciousness.

"I would fold back a flap of scalp and then use an instrument to bore the hole."

"How would you know when to stop? Couldn't you accidentally drill into his brain?" Joe asked the question, while taking several deep breaths.

Dr. Merchant's voice was thick with understanding. "I know this sounds unreasonable…even barbaric as you've said, but this can relieve the symptoms that would otherwise condemn a person to a slow and painful death or to spend the rest of their life as an invalid when the affected area of the brain dies from lack of blood flow."

Ben had regained his equilibrium enough to ask, "How big is the hole?"

"Hopefully about this size." The doctor indicated the dimension by bringing his index finger to the base of his thumb. "But if the damaged area is bigger, the hole can be enlarged to the size of a silver dollar."

"Do you use that…core…you remove…to…," Melinda groaned, "….as a plug…afterwards?"

"The bone disintegrates with the drilling process so there's nothing to set back in like a puzzle piece. We can only reclose the scalp. In time there will be calcification within the hole, but Mr. Cartwright would need to be careful of that spot. I suppose you could compare it to the soft spot that babies have."

"When will you decide whether to do this?" she questioned further.

"I have told you what I ' _can_ ' do, Mrs. Cartwright. Your husband is unable to give his consent, and therefore it falls to you as to _'whether'_ I do it. You have a few more hours. I'd say we'll look towards mid-afternoon. If he hasn't awakened by then, you'll have to decide."

She could hear herself thanking the doctor, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. This man had left her holding her husband's future. Melinda knew she wasn't a weak person. She'd faced each obstacle in her life with confidence, but this was different. She glanced at the clock as she heard the others asking a few last questions and then offering their farewells. It was barely 10:30. So much had happened in the hours since they'd found Adam's empty office that she thought it had to be evening. Yet she knew this was only a delay, not a reprieve, and the clock would continue to tick away the minutes until "mid-afternoon" would bring the need for sentencing. She rose unsteadily and grabbed Sam's arm. "Take me to him; now!"

 **Sixteen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 2:30 PM**

He looked to be sleeping—just sleeping, not stuck in world away from them. His head and neck were resting on towels holding crushed ice intended to offer some palliative comfort for the pain both of his doctors agreed was present. But since the brunt of the force had been delivered to the back of his head, there was any visible bruising.

His whole family had been with him for a while. Ben and Melinda had agreed that the others should come for a short visit…just in case. Abel, Sadie and the children had arrived around noon and spent an hour at the bedside before Melinda asked that they return home. Massachusetts General did not allow children to visit on the wards, but Sam had snuck Elizabeth and AJ in after making them promise to keep their voices low. The two youngsters had sat on the bed with their father, each holding a hand; Lizzy telling how she'd known where to look for him and concluding that he didn't look like a monster at all, while AJ sought absolution for revealing their secret.

Melinda had been hopeful that the voices of his family would push Adam toward wakefulness, but his expression hadn't changed other than for the occasional tightening around his eyes, making it look like he was experiencing pain or an unsettling thought in his sleep. It had been quiet since the others had left, and the four remaining Cartwrights had spent the hours praying and pacing. Ben checked his pocket watch and gave his daughter-in-law a nod towards the opposite side of the room. Hoss and Joe followed her lead.

"It's nearly time," he said once they'd assembled. "We've held out hope that this decision would be unnecessary, but, you should be ready."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know what to do. I would try anything to save him, but will _he_ want to live with a hole in his head?" She laughed without humor. "That sounds like some sick joke." Her breathing was coming so fast that she felt she couldn't get enough oxygen and leaned against the wall for support. "If there was a guarantee that he'd be fine again, I'd say yes without a second thought. But Sam said he could have a stroke during or after the surgery, or if it's due to swelling, the hole will do no good and could make things worse."

Ben held her hand. "There are no guarantees, only chances."

"So you're saying I should allow it?"

Ben pulled Melinda to him. "I'm only saying that you can't worry about what 'might' happen later. First you have to save him."

Melinda walked unsteadily to the chair at Adam's bedside. "I feel that either decision will be wrong…condemning him to an unimaginably miserable life."

Hoss went to her side. "There's one thing you ain't tried yet." He wiped her tears away with his thumb as she looked up at him. "You gotta talk to Adam. He's always done best when he knows what he's up against. He might not realize that his time is runnin' out for this, and who's to say he can't hear us."

"I get what Hoss is saying," Ben cut in. "Tell him what's being suggested; which way you're leaning, and why. Don't hold back the details because he needs to know those too." He took her hand as he said, "We'll leave so you can have some time alone."

A glance at the clock reminded her there was no time to waste. Once the room was cleared, she brought his hand to her lips, and then rested it against her cheek. "You know I love you more than anything in this life, Adam. And I find myself in the position of determining how you might spend the rest of yours. It would be a simple decision if there was something visibly wrong with you—something horrible and obvious. But you look like you're sleeping." She chuckled. "You probably don't realize that I watch you sleeping some nights, wondering how I am so blessed to have you next to me. But that doesn't change what I'm being asked to decide for you. Time is short, and you need to know a few things."

A deep breath or two and she began again. "You might need an operation that involves boring through your skull to be able to stop the bleeding in your brain…and leaving that hole there when they finish. And here's the rub, my love; the cure may be worse than the condition, and you could spend the rest of your life paralyzed or with diminished intellect. Those are the unknown outcomes I have to consider. Even if all goes well initially, there's still the danger of a brain infection or stroke afterwards, and your life might be restricted because of the opening in your skull. Still, doing nothing could ensure death or living on in an eternal coma.

Another quick glance at the clock. "Dr. Merchant will be back soon, so you're running out of time to simply wake up. I know you've provided well enough for us that we'll never want for anything if you don't make it through this. I appreciate that except that none of us will be all right without you." Her tone softened as she finished. "I will make a decision when it's time, and I pray that you can forgive me if it's the wrong one."

She moved to the edge of the bed and nestled her head on his chest as she listened to his heartbeat and breathing. _Please help him wake up_ , she beseeched in mental prayer as she held him tightly.

Sam walked in quietly a few minutes later. "It's time," was all he said as Dr. Merchant came forward holding a sheet of paper and pen that he extended to her once she was sitting up. "We shouldn't wait any longer or the damage will be permanent."

"Sam?" she said, turning to her physician and friend.

He nodded. "It's a chance, Melinda. He got through other injuries without intervention…when he was younger. He's not old, but he's not as resilient as he used to be, and this time he might need help."

Her hand was trembling so violently as she signed the consent that she nearly broke the nib off the pen. She kissed Adam, and then ran from the room to where the others were waiting. "What have I done?" she whispered as she fell into Ben's arms and sobbed.

"What Cartwrights always do, Melinda," he said soothingly, stroking her hair. "You gave him a chance."

 **Seventeen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 3:30 PM**

The clock had become her enemy. While previously it had moved too quickly, now each glance showed only a minimal advance and she wished the procedure to be over so she could find out whether her decision had saved or condemned the man she loved. Her heart was beating so hard that it seemed to fill her throat, making it hard to swallow or breathe. A quick look at the others reminded her that they were in similar agony.

Sam had accompanied them to a waiting room near the surgical area and gone over the schedule so they wouldn't worry about the time elapsed before hearing any news. He'd said the trephination wouldn't begin until after a swath of hair had been shaved, and he'd been sedated. In answer to Joe's question as to why sedation was necessary when Adam was already "out," he said that there was still reaction to pain and they couldn't allow any movement.

This state of breathlessness was wearing on all of them and she set her mind to relieving it by relying on her maternal instincts. "You must be starving, Hoss. Lunch is long past and you didn't have much for breakfast."

The big man smiled. "It's grumblin' in there all right, but I don't think I could get a bite down my gullet just now."

Joe laughed. "Are the rest of you feeling like I am? I swear I can barely take a full breath and think I'd pass out if I tried to walk around right now."

A loud breath brought their attention to Ben. "Maybe we could talk about something else for a while. It doesn't have to make sense; it just needs to get our minds off what happening in there." He indicated the operating room with a nod.

"Did you let the crew know we'll be here a little longer, Pa?" Joe asked.

"I'd sent a telegram earlier saying we'd stay until the will was read, so I don't have to do anything now. I've got our books along so I can pay our bills and wire the banks to arrange money transfers for the beef we're selling. The rest of the work is routine, and these hands have been with us long enough to know what to do."

"That's fer sure. I gotta say I'm itching to be out of the city, but I'm still not missin' the work part of the ranch," Hoss admitted as he blushed. "Sleepin' in a soft bed and bein' here with all'a us around is good."

The group was still nodding in agreement over Hoss's thoughts when Sam and Dr. Merchant walked in.

Melinda examined their faces for a clue. "You're done too soon," she groaned. "Sam said it would take at least two hours. Was it too late?"

"In a way," Sam answered as he smiled. "I'll let my partner explain."

"Apparently your husband had great reserve about his hair being cut. About the time the nurse had the scissors positioned to snip the first locks, he grabbed her wrist, and said, 'Where's Melinda.' The poor woman nearly fainted."

"He's awake?" Her joy was restrained but palpable.

"Awake and demanding to see all of you." The Dr. raised his hand as the Cartwrights eyed the door. "Give them a few minutes to get him back to his room, and then you can have your reunion."

Melinda hurried to shake the surgeon's hand on his way to the door. "He'll have lots of questions about what you'd planned to do, once he's feeling up to a good conversation. I'd decided to let you do the procedure because Adam will always accept a premise when he's convinced that it's well-thought out by a skilled person who has considered all the facts."

Afternooon had turned to evening with Adam being awake at intervals. The men of the Cartwright family had finally gone home to share the news and let the couple have a few private moments.

The patient was still dizzy and weak, but he was able to understand what had happened, and why. Melinda sat on the edge of the bed holding his hand as she had hours earlier. This time he was looking back at her, and her heart was bathed in thankfulness. That didn't stop her from making her feelings known. "You gave us all a scare, you know. And to hold your son to a secret about something so serious," she scolded.

He used his free hand to motion her closer and said softly, "Don't holler at me."

"I'm speaking firmly; not hollering." Her mock anger was evidenced by her grin.

"I have a headache that's worse than all the hangovers I've ever experienced combined into one." He winked then, and pulled her closer for a kiss.

She remained nose-to-nose with him as she whispered, "If you ever disappear again, I'll divorce you."

He pulled her back for another kiss. "Didn't you say you liked me just a few days ago?"

"I did say that and it's still true, but I am mad at you."

"No you're not." His tone turned serious. "You were afraid of me, not mad at me. I don't remember everything, but I'll always remember seeing your fear."

She placed her cheek against his. "I was afraid _for_ you, not of you, Adam. You were battling something deep and dark that blinded you to your actions." She sat up and breathed deeply before continuing. "When Sam was trying to figure out what was wrong with you, he asked me to recall what I observed last night. The startled look on your face after I cried out, made me realize that you didn't know you were holding my arm so tightly. You never meant to hurt me." She swatted his shoulder lightly as she frowned. "You know we could have figured out what was going on if we'd known what had happened. You should have gone to see Sam right away. Imagine a grown man suffering through all this because he was afraid to look stupid in front of his brothers."

His cheeks colored briefly with her admonishment, and then he grinned. "I suppose you're right about that, but I figured the lump would hurt less than the barrage of cat jokes I'd have endured if they'd have found out."

He closed his eyes, nearly dozing off, but roused again, pushing her up enough so she was looking at him. "I heard you telling me to wake up earlier, and I fought the devil himself to pull out of that stupor. I could hear the fear in your voice as you explained how your decision might cause me serious harm. " His voice quieted as he added, "That's the same terror I was experiencing when I left. In the end we both chose the course we hoped would give us the best chance."

She took his hands, holding them to her cheek. "Hoss told us about your friend, Ross, and I can see how that affected your decision. Your friend had a different sickness that quieted any sort of reason. But even in your darkest confusion, you were able to apply solid judgment." After giving him a moment to think, she asked, "You seem to be doing fine, but _are_ you feeling like yourself? No more suspicion or anger? I don't want you to hold back to save my feelings or make it seem like you're better than you are."

"The anxiety is gone because I understand why my thoughts were so muddled." He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he breathed deeply. "I did think I was losing my mind. My relief at reclaiming my memories makes me want to jump on the bed and holler for joy." He winked at her. "But we know I'd end up curled on the floor, retching into my slippers if I tried that." He paused, deciding how much to share about his recovery. "To be honest, the dizziness is unnerving me more than I let on. I feel like I'm falling from a great height whenever I move my head, even though I _know_ I'm flat on my back in a bed. During these episodes the room swirls around in a circle whether my eyes are open or shut, increasing the unsettledness." He sighed quietly and slid a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "I can't remember what I said to you or accused Joe of last night, but I think I pointed my gun at him. Is that true?" His groan at her nod was prompted by mental pain rather than anything physical. "He seemed to be all right when he was here, but is he? I mean…was he just being nice while seething under the surface? Please don't lie about this, Melinda. I need to know how angry he is."

She chuckled softly. "Joe knew you weren't yourself. He was concerned for you, and became very protective, not angry. He loves you fiercely, Adam, but he can only tell you by teasing you."

A nod brought an impatient snort as he resettled his head to combat the vertigo. The exhaustion from trying to lie still, won out over wanting to stay awake and talk. "I know it's not allowed in this fine institution, my love, but might you join me on the bed—respectably on top of the sheets of course, and stay while I fall asleep?" He traced the smile on her lips. "I feel less like I'm floating when you're touching me. Go home to our children once I'm sleeping." His voice thickened with emotion. "Tell them I heard what they said when they were here too. It felt like I was dreaming, and yet by that time I was able to make some sense of the fragments that had been assaulting me. Hearing their voices brought it all together and I knew I would make it home."

There wasn't much room at the side of the narrow bed, but she managed to angle in next to him. He pulled her close for a last kiss, and then nestled her to his chest with her head tucked below his chin. She rested her hand against his cheek and he was soon breathing rhythmically in sleep.

 **Eighteen – Wednesday, October 23, 1872- 9 AM**

Melinda smiled as Adam walked into his hospital room. He'd recovered more equilibrium each day since being admitted, and although still a little wobbly at times, Dr. Merchant had promised to release him if he could make several circuits of the long corridor without getting lightheaded. He was using a cane to forestall a tumble when things got, as Abel called it, shaky in the stern, and she figured to replace the curved wooden stick with a jauntier version if he had to use it for any length of time.

Ben had accompanied her to the hospital while Hoss and Joe had stayed at the house to give Abel, Sadie and Jillian a break from watching AJ and Elizabeth. He grinned at his daughter-in-law when Adam entered, knowing that his son was recovered enough to get "sprung," as they referred to his discharge. "Is everything ready for you to leave?" he asked as the patient sat heavily on the edge of the bed. The older man could see the beads of sweat across his son's upper lip and the way he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, probably indicating that he had pushed himself harder than he should have. Yet he also knew that Adam would do better at home with his family near, and eating Sadie's cooking.

When the exhaustion eased, Adam looked up at the smiling faces above him and chuckled. "You two seem pretty excited about me coming home. Did you miss me?" He laughed when they denied it, but added, "I'm just as excited as you are, but I need to wait for Sam and Dr. Merchant. The nurse told me that the good doctors are in surgery…so…you might as well get comfortable."

All three Cartwrights jumped when the door to the room flew open and Harold, the business manager from Wadsworth Engineering rushed in.

"Thank goodness you're all right, Adam!" He moved to the bed and flung his arms around his boss, and then blushed. "Sorry for that," he said as he looked down and took a step back, "but I'm so doggoned glad that you're in one piece."

Adam drew back in surprise. "What made you think I wasn't, Harry?"

The middle-aged man walked around the room, using his arms for emphasis as he tried to explain. "When your father came by the office on Monday to let me know you were in the hospital, he said you were doing fine." He looked toward Ben. "I trusted that, and honored your instructions to tell others that Adam had decided to spend a few days with his family."

"So what's got you so shaken?" Adam asked, his face shadowing with concern.

"Ah, boss, you gotta come to the office if you can…and right now. Wendell Otis Wadsworth, as he introduced himself, walked in this morning, acting like he owns the place—and then he said he does! I replied that the will hasn't been read yet. But he hitched his thumbs in his lapels and proclaimed that he is Frank's nearest relative on the Wadsworth side, and that puts him in line for it. He was pretty clear in his thoughts that Frank had made no bequests beyond his children so he'll have first claim."

Adam squinted as he thought back over Frank's cousins, and where they fit into the family. "I saw Wendell at the service, but he didn't say two words to me. Frank called him Worthless Wendell, and had no use for him, but...I think he's right about having the strongest Wadsworth lineage."

"Is that what would determine the heir if no one was named?" Melinda asked as she sat next to Adam on the bed.

"If this was England, it would, but we don't follow succession here. He can make a legal claim to the estate in court, but it's way too soon for him to be claiming ownership of anything. It could take months or years to be settled."

"It's even worse than that, Adam. He came with Clarence Foley, from Foley and Lombard Engineering. From what I could get out of their fast talk and demands, it was Foley who approached Wendell two days ago, saying that you were unfit to continue on as director of the firm, and someone had to take control."

Adam blew out a deep breath. "How did Foley get into this?"

"Foley was _here_ ," Harry indicated the hospital with a sweep at his hand, "visiting his mother-in-law on Saturday, and saw your family arrive. He recognized them from the memorial service and 'asked' a few questions of the staff. They said you'd gone crazy and there was something wrong with your brain and you needed to have holes drilled in your skull. Foley implied that you were physically and mentally incapable of running anything now."

Ben nearly growled his comment. "More likely he paid someone for the details and interpreted them to his benefit."

"Was it that bad, I mean when you first got here?" Harry asked with an open-mouthed, miserable look.

Melinda responded. "Adam was in serious condition, but this…Foley didn't get full story."

"I don't suppose that mattered," Adam said with a sour laugh. "I saw those two talking after the service, and I imagine Worthless Wendell told him all about his place in the Wadsworth family tree. When Foley got some salacious information to make a play for the company, he went after the weakest, most stupid and pliable Wadsworth family member he could think of. I'm sure he'll push Wendell to make a claim to the estate—maybe even finance it. It's actually a pretty good plan considering what he thought was happening with me. He could manipulate Wendell and use my incapacitation to offer his engineering expertise to keep Wadsworth from collapsing. He'd have had plenty of time then to divert our customers to Foley/Lombard and leave Wendell with a company as worthless as he is. He stood and got his balance. "We better go. What were they doing when you left, Harry?"

"I tried to stop them, but they bulled their way into your office." He turned his head, unable to look Adam in the eye. "I cleared my desk and locked all the ledgers in the cabinet; and then locked my door and left after they asked to see the books. But they can get at all of it pretty easily if they have a mind to. I'm sorry I couldn't get it in the safe, but I figured it was better to stash it and come see how you were doing."

Adam instantly left his role as patient and returned to being the director of a successful company. "Melinda, would you please finish up with the doctors? Come to the office when you're done." He gave his wife a quick kiss before turning to his father. "Jimmie will take you to Bill Murdoch's office after he drops me and Harry off. You'll recognize him from the memorial service. Bring him to us even if you have to pull him out of a meeting and carry him over your shoulder."

"And so it begins," Melinda whispered as the three men left. She knew Adam's adrenaline would keep him going for a while, but she also knew he needed more rest before he took on the rigors of managing things again. She gathered his personal items from the dresser and tucked them in the valise she'd brought, before settling into the only comfortable chair to wait. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as she considered that perhaps a hearty bump on the head had been the one way to get Adam to rest. He'd slept at least ten hours each night at the hospital, and napped during the day. He looked good despite a few lingering effects. His color was better, he was smiling more, and until this latest news, he'd had to leave the worries of the business behind. Her eyes drifted upwards as she thought; _did you have something to do with this, Frank? It would be like you to knock Adam on his head to make him slow down._

Adam left his cane with the receptionist and walked unassisted through the workroom, not stopping until he was standing in front of his desk. The two men had their backs to him as they were paging through the schematics of various projects on his drawing board. His voice was hard and commanding. "Stop what you're doing and get out of here before I have someone get the police."

Wendell nearly tripped as he whirled around. "But…I thought you were…"

"A drooling corpse?" Adam said with a snarl and turned toward his competitor. "I'm afraid your ill-gotten facts were incomplete, Foley. Perhaps you'd like to verify that I have no extra holes in my skull." He turned carefully, pointing at the back of his head, and then stared at the two red-faced men again. "At least you have the decency to be embarrassed. Would you like to come closer to check more thoroughly?"

"That won't be necessary," Foley returned as he raised his head imperiously; his embarrassment waning. "I was concerned when I'd heard about your hospitalization, and thought someone from the _family_ should be made aware of the situation before the company fell prey to an unscrupulous party."

"I think that's exactly what happened, Foley, since I'm guessing your motives had little to do with _saving_ this company." Adam moved around the desk and pulled a clean sheet of paper across the tangle of prints the men had been perusing. He leaned back on the drawing board and addressed Wendell. "What did he offer you to get in here?" The still-present blush on the other man's face deepened as he remained mute. "You may as well tell me; I'm going to find out one way or another. Foley isn't the only one who can pay people for information."

Wendell pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to Adam. It contained an agreement to install Foley as head of Wadsworth until legal matters were settled, and a purchase price to be paid by Foley-Lardner once Wendell held title. "This is it?" Adam scoffed. "You were willing to accept this without knowing how much the company is really worth, or suspecting Foley's real intent?"

"I need the money." Wendell dropped his head. "Things haven't ever gone well for my store. Frank was aware of it, and often gave me money when I got too deep in the hole. I assumed that since I'm his closest family, I'd be in line for the engineering firm. I don't know how to run something like this, so when Foley suggested a solution; I accepted…or at least I'm letting him have a look around to see if it's worth what he's offered."

Adam's eyes darkened to black pools. "Frank always said you had no business sense, and he bailed you out because he didn't want the Wadsworth name spilled across the business section with a foreclosure or scandal. He figured others would associate your name with us." He looked again at the offer and shuddered. "If you'd take a deal on this firm for a pittance because you need some cash, you're a bigger fool than Frank suspected."

"It doesn't matter what you think, Cartwright." Foley grabbed Adam's shoulder, and pointed out the windowed partition of the office to the opposite wall of the workroom. "That sign hanging out there says this is 'Wadsworth Engineering.' You managed to wheedle your way into Frank's good graces, but you can't ever make yourself a Wadsworth. I heard Frank's story about his cowboy-scholar who was some kind of business genius. But face the facts, Cartwright; you were just another one of Frank's creations. You know what I'm talking about: one of his legendary 'projects' that gave him bragging rights about how astute he was in choosing his _help_. You were nothing more than a lapdog that performed tricks so Frank could pat you on your head, and say, 'Good boy.'"

Foley saw Adam's eye twitch slightly as some of his jabs had found vulnerable flesh, and he went in for the kill. "Why, I bet he even said you were part of his little family, and called you, _son_." His ugly laugh filled the room. "You were at his memorial service; hell, you planned the whole thing, so you heard the testimonials. How many of them said they felt like family? How many of them testified to Frank's encompassing nature and ability to make them feel like they were special?" His grin matched the laugh in vileness. "Yet they'd all been left behind when Frank found a new project. You lasted longer than most of them, and happen to be the last, but I hope you never thought that he would leave this business in your hands forever. He'd have taken it back in a heartbeat when he found someone who interested him more than you."

Adam shoved his fists into his pockets to keep from slugging the guy. Yet Foley had left a stinger behind, pulsing with venom that created a metallic aftertaste of truth. Frank had been gregarious, and he _had_ helped a lot of people. Was it possible that Frank had only seen _him_ as one of his "diamonds in the rough"? He mentally removed the poisonous barb to stop the spread of toxic doubts, and stood taller to increase his height advantage over the short, rotund Wendell, and the average-heighted Foley. "It may be just as you say; I knew Frank for a long time, and worked for him for eight of those years. Yet I can't speak to what Frank 'thought' and neither can you. I will not let you disparage his memory or plant suspicions about the motives behind his kindnesses. What I do know is that I am still in charge here, and I will continue to do the best I can for the employees and customers at Frank's company until I'm asked to step down."

He was about to say more when he saw Bill Murdoch and his father rushing toward his office. It was his turn to point. "I'll hold further comments until Mr. Murdoch gets in here."

The lawyer tried to catch his breath as he demanded, "What's going on?" Adam handed over the paper Wendell had given him. After reading it, he turned toward the possible Wadsworth heir; his hands shaking with anger as he pointed to the paper, and shouted, "You had no right to enter into any sort of agreements on behalf of this company. I'm sure Mr. Cartwright has already told you to remove yourself from these premises, but I'll say it again. The will is going to be read on Monday as I've already set forth. You will stay away from here until then or I'll have you arrested." He turned towards Foley with a distasteful look on his face and spoke with sneer. "I have to admire your _quick action_. I've heard rumors about Foley/Lombard being the buzzards that hover, hoping to pick at the bones of a business in unfortunate and unforeseen circumstances. I've heard further that you'll do whatever you can to make sure that such companies fail, and then swoop in with lowball offers to 'save' them. Wendell Wadsworth is uniformed, but _you_ know the true worth of this company. Furthermore, if you had legitimate concerns about Mr. Cartwright's health or abilities, you should have approached me. This was dirty even by your standards."

Murdoch drew a deep breath to continue. "I've worked recently with a young reporter who does investigations into illegal or dishonest business practices. I'm thinking he'd like to sink his teeth into the meat of this story. By the time he finishes his exposé, perhaps Foley/Lombard will be the ones looking for a buyer."

Foley stared derisively at Murdoch. "You wouldn't dare."

The feisty lawyer met the stare and laughed. "I already did. When Ben Cartwright showed up at my office and gave me a quick report, I had my secretary send a messenger to this young man. He'll be meeting me for lunch if he's available." He laughed again. "I figured someone would try to take advantage of the situation as soon as the details of the Wadsworth family's death became known. I even suspected it would be you. Honest businessmen work hard to keep things legitimate and above-board. Frank, and the others I work with had become sickened by what was going on in Boston, and we'd already talked about what we'd do if we ever got the opportunity. I think Frank would be pleased that this will provide the circumstances for your demise."

Foley tried to answer, but nothing discernable exited his mouth as he stormed from the office. Wendell offered a feeble apology, noting he would be pleased to work with Mr. Cartwright if the will did declare him the owner, before scurrying away like a rat released from a trap.

Melinda arrived in time to see the two would-be usurpers yelling at each other as they took her empty cab, and she hurried past them to get inside. She heard Adam laughing and speaking in a louder-than-normal voice fueled by the excitement of whatever had happened.

"Thank you for getting here so soon, Bill. I think Wendell was ready to hide under the desk when he saw me, but Foley had enough bravado for both of them." Adam pointed to the note still being held by the lawyer. "What I can't understand is that Wendell would accept such a low bid. I've said I'll leave if that's what the new owner wants, but I'm beginning to realize that I can't let it go to someone who will give it away."

Bill nodded sagely. "I've seen it all over the years. Some families will fight over who gets the last penny, while others can't see the value in what they're going after and do just what Wendell tried."

Adam turned to his father. "Do you recall your offer to help me bid on the firm, Pa? I'd like to take you up on that."

Bill Murdoch interrupted before Ben could answer. "That's not possible, Adam. I shouldn't say anything, but I don't want you and Ben getting ahead of yourselves."

Ben's brows narrowed. "I'm not sure what you're implying."

The lawyer looked pointedly at Adam. "You cannot purchase Wadsworth Engineering."

"Did Frank say that in his will?" Adam asked incredulously.

"Let's just say I know it to be true."

All the ugly things Foley had said began burning through Adam's veins. _Had_ he been nothing to Frank except a moneymaker? Had he been wrong about Frank's deeper feelings, and had he been considered unworthy of purchasing the company _he_ had brought back to life. Only one word came to his lips. "Why?"

"I don't mean to sound mysterious or upset you. You'll understand on Monday."

Adam shook his head and immediately regretted the movement as the room swam around him. A deep breath settled things. "Can you at least tell me it's not going to Wendell?"

"Client privilege doesn't allow me to confirm or deny anything at this point. Patience, Adam." Murdoch pulled a watch from his vest pocket and checked the time. "I have a client coming soon, and then I intend to meet with that reporter." He shook hands with both Cartwright men and gave Melinda a peck on the cheek before addressing Adam again. "By the way, thank you for having your brother stop on Monday with your note explaining what happened. I was surprised to _see_ your father today, yet the news he brought didn't surprise me. Shady takeover attempts are common in instances like this. I've dealt with Foley before and it's time to shut him down."

Once Murdoch was on his way, Melinda forced her husband to sit. "I know you have a lot on your mind, but you need to hear your discharge instructions. They were sympathetic as to why you'd left so hurriedly, but Dr. Merchant gave orders that you take the remainder of the week off. Your episodes of dizziness indicate that your brain is still healing." She could tell by the absent look on his face that he wasn't listening. She pulled his chin up gently so he had to look at her. "What's bothering you? You have the same look you did on the day you got the telegram from France."

He grinned sheepishly, and then sighed heavily as he looked at the two people who knew him best. "Foley said I was nothing more to Frank than a pet he'd taught to do his bidding, and that he would have eventually ousted me from running the firm." He leaned his head back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I don't want to believe that…but it would explain why Frank wouldn't allow me to own his business. On the other hand, he always had the right to do as he pleased with what belonged to him."

"Murdoch didn't say you couldn't own the business," Ben offered as he leaned on the desk and focused on his son. "He said you couldn't 'purchase' Wadsworth Engineering. I believe he was telling you something he couldn't say outright. Might Frank have wanted his company disbanded in an instance like this?"

Adam shrugged and then smiled admiringly at his father. "There might be a clause dissolving the firm in this sort of situation. He wouldn't have wanted it falling into the hands of someone like Wendell who would destroy Frank's good name along with the business." His eyebrows drew together much like his father's did when in thought. "The part that doesn't add up is Bill telling me to go ahead with new bids _since_ Frank's death. Why would he do that if there'd be no Wadsworth to complete the contracts we've secured?"

"I can see the purpose," Ben countered. "You said yourself that the business could be sold off in pieces by the new owners, so why not by Frank? Another company might not need the office building, but they'd fight for the contracts and client list. Maybe you can bid on the financial assets and even some fixed assets like equipment at the sites, but not Wadsworth Engineering itself."

The son's smile grew as he considered his father's words. "You're still planning to come with Melinda and me to the disposition? If there's an opportunity, you can help me formulate a reasonable offer."

Melinda tugged at his arm. "That's enough. It's time to go home: Doctors' orders."

"I need to talk to Harry about our accounts. I won't be long." He laughed as he thought back to their arrival earlier. "When Harry and I got here, he darted into his office and held watch like a badger protecting its hole. No one was getting at our books without going through him first."

Melinda sat in Adam's chair when he left and looked around his office as she imagined the memories this space held for her husband.

Ben had left to talk with one of the engineers he'd met on his last trip to Boston, and she grinned at him as he returned. She'd given up the chair to pace, and now came to a stop, leaning against the broad window sill. "You know that I neither paced nor leaned on things before I married your son. His habits are contagious."

Ben pursed his lips and nodded. "I've always paced, so I can take some of that blame. And I noticed that Abel leaned on things when I first sailed with him. I assumed it was part of his sea legs. But when I started keeping Elizabeth's company, I saw that he did it on land too. He's not as obvious as Adam, but you'll see him lean on the chair if he's standing by the table or the stair rail if he's over there. In fact, he was leaning in the doorway talking with me this morning while I was getting ready to leave."

She laughed heartily. "I think you're right! And AJ's doing the same thing already. Jillian is continuously critiquing his posture, yet it's likely the tendency is inherited." She quieted as she looked down at the street and watched the people and vehicles moving past. "Thank you," she said quietly when she looked up again.

"For what?"

"For clarifying Bill's words." She watched her father-in-law's face for tells as to whether he believed what he'd proffered. When there was no indication either way she asked pointedly, "Do you think Frank would disband the firm?"

Ben walked over and perched next to her. "Hearing about this situation with Frank's family made me consider what I'd want done if there were no heirs to take over. I concluded that I can't leave that to chance, and I'm pretty sure Frank was far ahead of me in this respect. What I said to Adam may or may not be accurate, but we both know he still needs to rest, and I wanted to suggest a positive alternative. You could see his doubt beginning to bubble just below the surface—not about Frank—but about himself."

She nodded slowly. "He's his own harshest critic."

Adam returned and smiled as he observed Melinda and his father sitting side-by-side in conversation. "What are two plotting?"

"No plots, my love," she replied as she sent a quick wink towards Ben. "We're talking about what we can do in the last few days your family is here."

"What did you decide?"

Ben looked at his daughter-in-law with a toothy grin. "Yes, what _did_ we decide?"

Melinda joined Adam, taking his arm as she steered him to the door. "We'll go riding on Saturday, although you'll have to keep your horse at a walk." When he sent her a challengin look, she elaborated. "You can hurt yourself again is you gallop with Samson or jump him over fences and downed trees to impress your brothers. Between then and now, you need to rest."

"I'm not staying in bed," he growled.

"I didn't say you had to. But there'll be no sneaking down to your office during the night to work, and no strenuous activity. Walking is good, so we can do a little sight-seeing with Joe and take him to some of the restaurants and places he's heard us talk about."

"There is something _I have_ to do." His tone was firm but not unkind as he stopped their progress and turned to her. "I have to be here a couple hours tomorrow and Friday. I asked Harry to get everyone together in a few minutes so I can tell them what went on today, and why I haven't been here. I'll let them know that I'll be gone the next two afternoons, but they'll do better if I'm visibly in charge again. Major upheavals are coming soon, and I don't want any question as to who's at the helm when they begin."

 **Nineteen – Monday, October 28, 1872 - 11 AM**

He glanced at the clock again. He was on edge, and had to concentrate to stop his feet from tapping out his anxiety. The last several days had gone well, and he'd managed to put the will out of his mind as he'd showed off his new home town. Joe had been impressed by the historic sites they'd seen, and had tried to imagine his older brother as a young man on the Harvard campus when they'd toured there. He'd found out about Adam's less studious side when they visited a couple of historic pubs frequented by students.

One of the tavern owners had been a bartender during Adam's college years and regaled Hoss and Joe with stories of Adam's early bouts of overindulgence. Gus had told them in his heavy Boston brogue, "I rememba that your brotha loved to sing. The more he drank, the louda he got. But that didn't stop him, and he'd keep goin' until he'd get too hoarse to continue. His friends made bets on how long it would take for his voice to go."

The story had brought laughter from his brothers and a parental glower from his father, along with his playful comment of, "So that's why you were always short on cash." But the teasing and laughter had died away when Gus had taken them to a part of the room bearing the names of students who'd topped their class rankings at graduation. They saw the etched names of John Hancock, John Adams…and much further over…Adam Cartwright. Hoss had stared at the wall and said, "Well, ain't that just somethin'."

Saturday had been a magnificent day warmed by the October sun and brightly colored with the last leaves of fall drifting from the trees. No one had mentioned that it was probably the last time they'd ever explore the woods and grasslands of the Estate on horseback, and Adam hadn't let the brief moment of realization about it impede his enjoyment.

But while he'd kept his thoughts about the future at bay over the weekend, they were crowding in now, and making his heart pound. The effects of the pipe-to-his-head incident had waned by Friday, and he'd had no further bouts of vertigo since then, making him assume that the brief swirl of the room at times was more an effect of his rapid heartbeat and breathing than anything more sinister. A print of a new riverside warehouse and dock drew his attention back to his desk, and he began to calculate again. Figures had always settled his mind, and they proved a calming balm as he dug into the mathematics of the harbor wall. It was nearly noon when he looked at the clock again and noticed Melinda and his father walking toward his office.

"Are you ready for lunch?" she asked from the doorway. "We'd better go now or it'll get too late."

He didn't feel like eating; wasn't sure he'd be able to push any food down past the lump that had lodged in his chest as he once again realized the life-altering change that would occur in a few hours. He smiled as he put his pencil down and donned his jacket. "I doubt I'll eat much, but I need to move around, and coffee sounds good."

Harry came out of his office as he saw the Cartwrights walk by, and motioned them over. "You'll come tell us what happens, won't you?"

"Sure Harry." Adam looked around to see the eyes of everyone in the work area focused on him. He could see the concern and knew it was as much for him as for themselves.

One of the engineers that had been with the firm for many years rose at his desk, and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "We all want you to know that no matter what happens today, boss, we appreciate everything you've done to keep this place going; not just since Frank's death, but in turning this into a thriving business again." His sincere look was replaced by a large grin as he reached into the large lower drawer of his desk. "We also want to give you something to use when you go visit the worksites again." He withdrew the object from the drawer and presented Adam with what appeared to be a bowler hat covered with tar pitch.16* "We made you this so you won't get clunked again."

Adam placed it on his head and gave a sound knock to demonstrate its effectiveness. This caused another engineer to applaud, and soon the room was awash in whistles, laughs and shouts of encouragement.

Melinda slipped her hand from Adam's arm as he moved to the center of the room. He smiled while removing the headgear. "Thank you for this. You may have meant it as a joke, but I think you might have come up with an idea for a very important piece of safety equipment." He tucked the hat under his arm. "Thank you for your kind words as well. I may have had a plan to make this place better, but a plan doesn't become a success without great people as its foundation. You deserve more credit than I do for your impeccable engineering, leadership, and never-failing support of our customers. Thank you all."

 *****2 PM – Bill Murdoch's Office*****

The Cartwrights had been escorted into the lawyer's office by his secretary who'd told them that Mr. Murdoch had gone to the court house and was expected back at any minute. Adam checked his watch to verify the time, and sent his wife a questioning look. "I thought Bill said we'd all meet at two. It's nearly that now and we're the only ones here."

"It must be the right time or Jeffrey would have said something," Melinda offered.

"I'm sure there's a good reason the others haven't arrived yet," Ben cautioned, trying to reduce the tension he was sure his son was feeling.

Bill came through the door as they were still talking, and rushed to set a thick portfolio on his desk. "Sorry I was delayed," he said as he removed his coat and hung it on the rack behind him. "I suppose you'd like to get this over with?" His warm smile and the comment served to break the tension he'd seen on the faces of his guests.

"Where are the others?" Adam's brows rose as he posed the question.

"They were here this morning, but I wanted to meet privately with you."

Adam's brows froze in their raised position. _It's worse than I imagined_ , he thought as his heart began to pound again. "Your comment makes me wonder how soon the new owner wants my office cleared out." He hadn't meant to sound prickly, but he had, and he figured it best to stop talking.

Bill began to laugh; softly at first, and then gaining volume until he had to stop to take a breath. "I don't know what you're expecting, Adam, but let's go through this." He opened a folder and withdrew a handful of documents before looking up. He tried to look serious but he couldn't stop grinning. "There has been a lot of speculation about whether Frank had the foresight to fashion his will for a catastrophic event, but there should have been no doubt. The possibility of his family perishing together always haunted him, so he wasn't about to leave his estate open to his 'thieving relatives,' as he called them."

The lawyer looked down as he sighed. "He and Marian were excited about that trip, yet Frank was uneasy about it too." Bill saw Adam shifting in his chair and laughed. "Enough stalling: let's get started. The relatives of Frank who were here this morning are sharing the proceeds from the sale of the firm and the house in England. You were probably aware that he'd accepted an offer on the London estate before they'd come back to Boston the last time. He and Marian had remained stateside so long to get that settled before heading to France. Their intent was to find a country home with a good stable in England after that. Our firm in London sent us the paperwork on the sale and Frank came by before they left to sign it. While he was here, he made sure the rest of his wishes were set in stone as well. It was fortunate that things worked out as they did prior to Frank's death or the London property would have gone into the succession nightmare."

Adam nodded and looked over at Melinda. "I'm not surprised it sold so quickly; it was a lovely house in a perfect neighborhood."

"The amount of each familial bequest will be increased once we sell off the investments originally made by Frank's grandfather here. Frank thought that these proceeds should go to Wadsworth offspring. Family holdings owned by Marian at the time of her marriage to Frank will be disbursed to her cousins for the same reason. These were generous payouts and the people who were here earlier seemed satisfied." He grinned widely. "Wendell was exceptionally pleased to have ready cash coming his way."

"Is the house here included in the sell-off?" Adam asked.

Bill answered the question with one of his own. "Are you aware of the whole story about the estate that Frank inherited?"

"He told me there'd been heavy debts attached to both the house and firm when he took over, but he never elaborated."

"Simply put; Frank's father was so broke that even the sale of family holdings at that time couldn't have paid off the debts. The old man had continued to run things long after he should have passed the reins. The rumors about his deteriorating mental ability were borne out in the bad financial decisions he'd made as others took advantage of his failing judgment. Frank had to have his father declared mentally unfit to salvage the family name and take over the business while there was still a chance of recovery. He'd married into a wealthy family, and had inherited money through Marian. They used that to pay debts and keep things afloat while Frank got the engineering firm back on firm financial footing. His impeccable business sense improved conditions fast. Frank always said that he and Marian had 'bought' the house and business from the failed estate, and therefore it no longer 'belonged' to the greater Wadsworth family."

Adam laughed. "Frank used to tell me he could sell a fur coat to a grizzly bear." He breathed deeply. "I know Frank loved giving money away as much as he loved making it, so I imagine the sale of the rest of his investments will go to the causes he and Marian supported."

"There are a several grants being distributed from the will from the sale of various stocks, but there is still a huge amount being bequeathed to one individual." The laugh returned when he noted the blank look on Adam's face. "You really have no idea do you?"

"What are you talking about, Bill?"

"The reason I had you come separately is that the heir to all remaining Wadsworth holdings and investments in the United States…is you! I said you couldn't 'buy' the business, because it was already yours!"

Melinda grabbed Adam's hand and sent Ben a shocked look behind her husband's back. She had seen Adam blush, and then pale at the news, and she wasn't sure what emotional or physical phenomena would happen next. When he said nothing, she prompted, "Adam?"

His head moved up and down. "This is…. I…I…don't deserve this."

Bill came around to sit on the front of his desk. He was holding a sheet of paper that he set next to him. "Frank had made a number of decisions long before he left on that trip. One was to sell the London house and Frisco business to free up capital for his new endeavors, but the other was to transfer the business here to you. The legal paperwork on this was already filed when he died, and I just got confirmation from the court today that the transfer will stand rather than being part of the the will. Wadsworth Engineering would have been yours either way, but since it's legally yours now, you can get on with running your business. Frank intended to return after the trip and give you the documents." He shook his head. "I'm surprised Harry didn't figure out something was going on. I had to ask him for a lot of paperwork when I started the transfer. Yet, he was used to giving me the same things to finalize customer deals, so it probably didn't register that it was more than the norm." He retrieved the page from the desk where he'd placed it. "You're beginning to see that Frank was prepared for any eventuality, and in that spirit, he left this note to explain his gift in case he couldn't get back as soon as he'd hoped." He reached for his glasses, slipped them on, and began to read.

 _"Dear Adam,_

 _I am a very happy man. Your work has released me from a life that had always been more of a means to an end than my avocation. I love business; the art of the deal, the negotiations and besting everyone else to win the contract. But much like my son, I can't say I appreciated the type of business I inherited. Still, I gave it my all._

 _When you came back to Boston and joined Wadsworth, I began to see what enthusiasm and fervor for this field could accomplish. Your precise nature and attention to each client as you engineered exactly what they'd had in mind, inspired me. You took a good company and brought it to the front of the class in expertise and profits. I think I saw this potential in you from the moment I met you as a scrawny kid come to town to get an education. I watched with interest, and cheered you on as you progressed to a man to be reckoned with. You have never disappointed._

 _When I found out how unhappy my son was with his lot, and with the encouragement of my beloved Marian, I decided it was time both father and son start fresh. That left me unsure of what to do with the business. It was something that had become an anchor to my future instead of filling my sails with enthusiasm. Yet I couldn't sell it because it was still part of me. I finally understood that it already belonged to someone who honored its tradition and its family ties, while also ensuring its growth and excellence. Wadsworth Engineering belongs to you, son. I have made you a Wadsworth through choice, not birth, and Marian and our children are in complete agreement on this move. Take the reins and make us proud._

 _In all love and hope for your success and prosperity,_

 _Frank and Marian."_

Bill set the letter back on his desk. "There were some stipulations on a separate document requiring you to provide a percentage of the business profits for the upkeep of the house and donations to charitable organizations over a period of years, but those are superseded by the will. You should also know that all four Wadsworths signed off on the business transfer so there can be no backlash from the other relatives who might think they have a claim on it. In fact Frank left a formal document laying out his specific wishes in regards to his remaining estate that leaves no opportunity for a lawsuit."

Ben had sat quietly as he'd taken in the incredible news for his son. But he was intrigued by this statement. "How did he do that?"

"He made specific bequests to each of his remaining kin. Since everyone was named, and they each received cash along with family mementos from the estate, they can't say he forgot them or that he would have wanted them to have more." Murdoch smiled sadly. "Of course he didn't know that his fine planning would come under scrutiny so soon, but the disposition is ironclad."

"So I remain in charge of the business?" Adam had stopped listening as he tried to understand the thoughts that were bouncing in his mind, giving him a mental concussion much like the physical one he'd recently experienced.

"You _own_ the business. But you own the house and properties, and the remaining financial estate too. We've already removed all the items Frank and Marian had set aside as family bequests. But the business transfer is complete, and I've already sent a notice to the paper, naming you as the new owner. I've also written a letter for you to send to your clients confirming your status. Jeffrey had several printed and they'll be delivered to your office for distribution."

Melinda's head was spinning now, and she wondered if this is what Adam had been experiencing since his accident. She leaned forward. "Do I understand correctly; Frank left the house in Boston to Adam too?"

Bill nodded. "Frank actually designated Adam as a 20 % recipient of his estate some years ago. Of course Marian was named first at 100%. In the event that she died at the same time as he did, then each of his children would receive 40%, and Adam would get the remaining 20. But since Frank wanted each possibility covered, Adam, Frank Jr., and Amelia all had survivorship. Adam is the sole survivor, so it is all his. And again, all members of the family signed off on his inclusion so no one can make claim that Adam used force or collusion for his consideration." Bill waited a moment. "I revealed all this to those who were here this morning, and I emphasized that a court battle would be futile."

Ben found his voice. "How'd they react to that?"

Bill laughed. "Frank left a precisely worded note to explain his wishes, so they were mute."

The elder Cartwright grinned. "What did it say; if I may ask?"

"He said that he felt about most of his relatives the same way as he did about the need to wear full length underwear under his trousers. While a few of them were a good fit in his family's life and brought great joy, most of them rubbed him sore like the abrasive wool fabric of his suits, and necessitated the need for a buffer between them and his skin." Adam came out of his stupor to laugh out loud. "There's more, though. He wrote that he imagined they were all sitting there waiting for a payout that they thought they 'deserved' for sharing a family name. But his wife and children were the only ones who 'deserved' this consideration because they'd put up with him. And he wrote finally that there was one person included in his estate who didn't expect anything, nor would this man feel he deserved to receive any of it. But this person was the only one who had _earned_ consideration." Bill waited until Adam looked directly at him. "He meant you."

Adam breathed deeply, releasing it slowly through pursed lips. "I'm having trouble believing this is real. Yet, I had experienced Frank's generosity all along, so it is only surprising because of the scope."

Bill shook his head. "Frank and Marian's great investments had made them an extremely wealthy couple. They knew many people and had relatives, but they chose you and Melinda as the custodians of the Wadsworth family's legacy. I know you will honor this just as you honored them." A grin spread from ear-to-ear. "And I hope that you are duly impressed with how I handled Frank and Marian's estate, and will leave your ample sums of cash in my care."

Adam looked up blankly as he considered the statement and finally smiled as he realized Bill was trying to bring a bit of humor to the proceedings. "I am impressed, Bill, and imagine we'll be spending a lot of time together as we go through all the details. If Frank trusted you, how can I not?"

Melinda's eyes were wide as she fanned herself. "I can't believe we're inheriting that beautiful house."

"I can see you're still taking all this in, my dear." Bill chuckled. "Yes, the house, contents, and the other investments and real property are yours. Of course these things will take a few months to pass through probate, but we've already filed the appropriate inquiries. You can't take actual possession yet, but there's no reason you can't begin using the grounds. To that end…," He returned to the back of his desk and pulled out another folder, and pushed a stack of papers across the desk. "This is the inventory of everything at Wadsworth Manor. Of course you know Walter, the butler at the house. That title doesn't begin to describe all he does out there. He's been managing the property for years and he's the one who did the inventory. You can trust him to run things until you take over. He'll be able to answer any questions you have about handling such a large household."

Bill waited for Adam to slide the file onto his lap. "I had to meet with Walter to arrange for the house staff to segregate the items going to relatives and organizations. He was the only one who knew the truth about who inherited. I met with him again last Friday and he told me they have removed the family's personal belongings from their rooms. And…being the wise old owl he is, he suggests you spend weekends there while you wait for the courts. Making the transition a little at a time will be a good way to adjust and figure out what you'd like to change. He's invited your entire family to spend Saturday there taking full advantage of the amenities, and the staff would like to welcome you officially at dinner that evening." He saw the blank stares coming back at him and pushed for an answer. "May I confirm that you'll be there for dinner, if not for the day?"

Adam turned toward his wife, his lips and cheek tilted in question. Melinda was the first to regain her thoughts. "The Wadsworth staff has always been most kind to us. Please thank them for continuing to take such good care of the estate, and let them know that we will look forward to spending the full day with them." She glanced at Adam again. "Walter is right about it taking time to adjust. We'll have him walk us through the house on Saturday, and make plans for future weekends"

Adam found his voice as he invited Bill to join them on Saturday, and then turned to his father. "I know I keep asking you to postpone your return to Nevada, but might you all stay until Sunday? I'd like to make our first dinner there into a small gathering to honor Marian and Frank. They both loved a good party."

Ben patted his son's arm. "I suspected you might need a few strong shoulders around yet this week, and already sent word back home. I know you're not thinking all of this through yet, but I'm pretty sure you'll be able to use us at the sites again to make sure the crews don't relax their efforts once they don't have to worry about losing their jobs."

The lawyer nodded towards Ben. "It seems like Walter isn't the only wise owl." He closed all the folders and stood behind his desk. "I think we've covered enough for today. I'll come by the office a little later in the week to bring the deeds and documents of incorporation, and make an official transfer of the building keys. Let's say Thursday, at one? If you can get your staff and family there, we'll make it into a little celebration."

*** **Monday, October 28, 1872 – 11 PM*****

The evening had been subdued, even though everyone had been thrilled and excited for the Boston Cartwrights and the opportunities they now faced. But the fact that their good fortune came at a great personal loss couldn't be ignored. Adam had finally declared an end to the sadness by announcing that they were going to celebrate on Saturday and pay true tribute to the Wadsworths in the best way they could—by having a wonderful time. He'd then asked Hoss and Joe to take Jillian down the block to a local pub that was presenting an evening of skits and song. The young woman and his brothers had held down the fort during the hospitalization and the rush of activity afterwards, and he thought they'd enjoy an evening out. Once the AJ and Elizabeth were tucked in, he'd set up the card table and the remainder of them, except Abel, who'd fallen asleep on the couch after dinner, played a rousing game of whist.

Adam had stopped at the office to give them a report. He was sure most of them were happy they wouldn't lose their jobs, yet he imagined a few might be resentful of his good fortune. He'd taken steps to ease those feelings by promising a substantial bonus, as a way to share Frank's faith in everyone who'd gotten the company to its current status.

The house had finally quieted as the three tired revelers had returned from their outing, and the three from the Stoddard house had headed home. Adam and Melinda had straightened the house and headed up for the night. Their eyes remained open though as they held hands in the dark as was their custom before adopting their favorite sleeping positions.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Probably not." Adam rolled his head back and forth on his pillow. "I still can't believe what happened today. I'm exhausted, but I can't shut my mind down enough to relax." A chuckle rose from his side of the bed. "I think I went to bed because everyone else did, not because I was sleepy."

"And because I made you," she teased. Melinda rolled towards him and draped her arm across his chest. "It doesn't matter if we sleep. We can talk for a while until we get drowsy, but we do need to rest."

She paused a moment, and in her silence, he recognized her un-posed question. What's bothering you?" He slipped his arm under her shoulders to scoot her tight against him.

"You looked stunned when Bill revealed the will. I thought for a minute you'd pass out. Didn't you have any inkling about being included?"

"You could have knocked me over with a feather when he said I'd gotten the business, and then I felt like I'd been hit by a 600 pound feather pillow when he said we had the house and the rest. I didn't even ask about the Pullman car, but I suppose we have that too. Walter's inventory is probably 100 pages! There's so much to learn, yet I trust Walter, and we'll work with him to figure it all out."

This time he lapsed to silence and Melinda prompted, "What are you thinking? I know that sigh. Something just came to mind."

"When Frank put me in charge, and then spent more time in England, I suspected he was giving me time to save enough to buy into a partnership. But just now I remembered that he'd said something about putting us in his will at our wedding. Do you remember? It was when they were getting ready to leave."

"I do recall, but I thought he was referencing the endowment they gave us then."

"That was my thought too. I assumed he'd taken money from the family estate to give us that gift."

"The fact that the whole family signed off on the will and the business, proves that they were absolutely serious about including you. He called you his child by choice; that was beautiful." She drifted her finger through the swirls of hair on his bare chest. "Frank and Marian loved you deeply. I understand that completely."

"They loved us all. You could see their delight at having the children around too. Following Frank's logic, they were their grandchildren by choice." He laughed quietly. "It was interesting to see AJ and Elizabeth's reaction to moving out there."

"AJ immediately worried about Abel and Sadie being not being next door, and Elizabeth could only think about seeing her pony every day. Yet they're equally concerned about their great grandparents, and equally excited about being in that house."

He reached for her hand as his body began to respond to her touch. "I like where this is going, but let's hold off a minute." He could feel her nod as she entwined her fingers in his. "How do you feel about moving? Can _you_ feel comfortable there?"

"I'm sure I will. I've always loved that house. It has a warm character, even though I'm sure we'll decide to make some changes. The grounds are what I love most. We are so landlocked here. It hasn't been a problem so far, but the kids will appreciate the ability to roam at will." She sighed deeply. "But we can't leave Abel and Sadie behind…."

Adam grinned in the dark. "You were very quiet tonight during dinner. And you lost at cards, so I knew you were distracted. You've already got a plan to solve this, don't you?"

"Do you think we could convince Abel to move with us?"

"The same thought entered my mind. We might convince him to come along, but I think he'd grow melancholic for the sea."

"Isn't there a large sun room on the first floor?"

Adam grunted, "Unhuh."

"We could make that into a suite for Sadie and Abel. He wouldn't have to navigate the stairways, and they would have privacy and a place of their own. They could be with us whenever they wanted to, just like here.

"It sounds good, but doesn't address the loss of his friends and the waterfront."

She reached up to stroke his cheek. "Well maybe the next part of this would make it easier. The house next door is going up for sale. I'd like make an offer on it. I talked to the agent the other day and he said it's in bad shape and needs to be torn down. I think we can get the lot for a good price and petition for a change in zoning."

"Why would we want another lot or a change in zoning if we're moving?"

Her words came faster with her excitement. "We'd talked about using Frank and Marian's wedding endowment to do something useful, and I think it's time. You know I've always wanted to start a school for gifted, underprivileged children, using my teaching methods. There are great minds and talents in some of the poorest areas, Adam, but even when they do get a chance at attending school, it's always a traditional school and they can't adapt. They've grown up doing for themselves and being wary of people in charge. They have a hard time with a disciplinarian-style teacher forcing them to sit still and do endless memorization and recitation. These children don't know how to learn like that, and they usually end up labeled as having behavior problems that are really just the fruits of frustration and boredom. They need be taught in ways that are active, interesting, and challenging. If this happens, they'll become wonderful students who can one day go back to their neighborhoods and make a difference."

He hugged her. "I haven't heard you this fired up about an idea in a long time. You'd have to give up your publishing work to get it done. Are you willing to do that?

"I could become a 'silent' partner," she chuckled.

"You are never silent," he teased.

She swatted his chest. "It's more likely I'd sell to devote my time to this."

"It will already be a busy time for all of us, but maybe that's the best time to start new endeavors. We'll get it all going at once…and adapt." He chuckled as his lip curled. "What does this plan have to do with rezoning and Abel missing the sea? I think that's where we left him."

She pushed up on her elbow to look down at him. "The empty lot can be a playground. Then we'll connect Abel's house to ours to create a library and lunchroom. We'd use Abel's house for offices. It wouldn't need much work except to enlarge the kitchen. I think Sadie would enjoy planning and cooking the noon meal for the children, and Abel could come in with Sadie and me each day. He's a good negotiator and could make sure things get done right with the construction. He can even help around the school, if he wants to."

Adam pulled her down to kiss her forehead. "How long have you been planning this?"

She blushed. "Just during dinner…mostly. And the best thing is that we could leave Abel and Sadie's room untouched. He can rest there or stay the night if he wants."

"Abel did a wonderful job overseeing our house while we were in England, and he'd probably like to feel useful. I'll do some preliminary sketches for connecting the 2 houses, and we'll see if it's possible. The bigger problem, I'd think, will be finding your students."

"I'll set up a foundation that will work with charitable organizations in the city. They can identify children who would be good candidates and I'll test them." Melinda gave a sudden snort. "Boy I wish I could talk Hoss into staying here."

"Now where did that come from?" He asked as he laughed again.

"He's a natural with kids. They respond to him without fear and really open up. He was so good with Peggy when she and Laura visited the Ponderosa while we were there. He helped me test her to see how far behind she'd gotten in school because of Laura's problems with Will."

"I think Hoss would help if he could, but he'll never leave the Ponderosa." A large yawn escaped. "Getting some ideas laid out for the future is relaxing me, my love. Your plans sound perfect for you. I'll help as I can, but I have to admit that I was thinking about some of the changes I'll make on my business too." He sighed. "It really is my business. We've got open space in the office from getting our engineers out to the worksites, and I was thinking I'd talk to Charles Eliot about starting an intern program. We could take on a few students each year who want to get into the business of engineering. One of the reasons Frank spoke for Eliot's hiring was because he felt Charles would prepare employable young men, not just academics."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea! You could have them learn how to bid, present a deal, run a company and see what it's like to have their concepts become reality. And it wouldn't hurt them to spend a few weeks working at a site to learn how that happens." The room became quiet as they each considered their plans. Melinda finally broke the silence. "Can you sleep now? If not there might be something to divert our attention and make us drowsy."

"Did you want to play a game of checkers?" he teased. "I'll set up the board."

"I had something else in mind." She slid her hand down his chest and under the waistband of his pajamas. "Oh!" she chuckled as she found him already aroused. "I see you've begun without me."

*** **Tuesday, October 29, 1872 – 5 AM*****

Adam and Melinda were up before dawn. They'd slept soundly after making love, but they'd awakened around three and talked more about the merit and feasibility of their ideas. They agreed it would mean working long hours and turning worlds upside down, yet it would make lives better and therefore be worth the upheaval. They finally got up and dressed for the day.

"Let's reveal our news at breakfast and solicit suggestions and criticisms," Melinda suggested while pinning her hair. "Maybe your father or brothers can see major pitfalls that we're blind to because of our enthusiasm."

"I'll be interesting to see Abel and Sadie's reaction. It should be obvious immediately whether they'd be interested in assuming their role in our plans." He walked up behind his bride of eight years, slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to him, leaving a trail of kisses along her neckline, ending in her most vulnerable spot behind her ear.

"If you start this we'll never get going," she teased as she turned to kiss him. While lip to lip, she whispered, "I have something to confess. Last night I made love to one of the wealthiest men in Boston?"

Adam nuzzled her ear. "I'd be careful, my dear. I hear he has a very jealous wife."

They remained in each other's arms, swaying to some unheard tune, until he took a step back. "So we're going to do the things we've talked about?"

"I think so."

"Good. We're the first one's up. I stepped into the hall a minute ago, and it's quiet except for Hoss snoring, so we can sneak down to my office and get some of our thoughts on paper." He took her hand as they moved to the door. "It's funny how we tend to fear turns in fate—even avoid them when we can. Yet I'm learning that we should embrace them as signs of a better life to come. There was a time before I left home that I feared my life was going nowhere. But each setback and seeming failure or disappointment, was telling me that I was in the wrong place, and I'd better get back where I belonged. And now a tragedy has become an impetus to move ahead again and help others. I can't think of a better outcome."

The End

 **Footnotes for Section 3**

15* By the late 1870s, the hospital (Massachusetts General) had assumed a distinctly surgical character, with surgical admissions outnumbering medical admissions since the outbreak of the Civil War. Early trephinations—gaining access to the brain by cutting a hole in the skull—were performed by Dr. John Collins Warren, a hospital founder, first for treatment of acute trauma and later for epilepsy. (Dr. Warren was no longer a physician at the of this story, but his work had begun a revolution in the treatment of brain trauma. However, one has to imagine that without the ability to close that hole – and they were often huge – the patient's life would be dramatically different. There was also the possibility of introducing bacteria directly into the brain, causing infection and death. Dr. Joseph Lister was already beginning to preach antiseptic procedures for surgery, but his thoughts were not highly practiced until later in the century. One would think that a hospital associated with Harvard would have adopted some of these thoughts far earlier than general medicine, so I'm thinking that there would have been sterilization of instruments, even if the field of operation wasn't kept as sterile as it later became. Dr. Sidney Merchant is fictional character modeled on those who served before him.)

16* The hard hat as we know it today actually started as a hat covered with several layers of tar pitch to give it a solid exterior. I can't imagine they were comfortable, but in time they were fitted with a sling inside to provide a cushion of air between the hat and the head.


End file.
